Sister of the Dead

by J. C.

  "No, he's close, " Leesil answered. "With what this lord has told us and what we've seen, he's near enough. "

  "Could Chap track this thing?" Magiere asked.

  The dog barked three times.

  "That means maybe, so he is uncertain, " Wynn said. "But he might not need to. I am not a mage, but there may be something I can try... a small mantic trick. Connections exist between all things, especially the living. If Vordana sustains himself by absorbing life energies around him, I might be able to see it happen, as it affects the layer of Spirit in this place. I could find him. "

  Leesil shook his head. "Wynn, this sounds like—"

  "It would be like watching the surface of a lake, " she cut in, "when a trough has been gouged somewhere along its shore. The whole surface shows signs of movement in the direction of drainage—in the direction of Vordana. I have some notes from my studies, and I think I can do this much. We have to try. Is this not what you do? Hunt the undead?"

  Wynn fell silent. Once, in Bela, she had tried to focus her own life energies to speed the healing of Leesil's flash-blinded sight. It had seemed to work, but she was forthright in stating that she was no mage. What she proposed was more than bolstering the natural processes of life. But what choice did they have? She could not believe Magiere was ready to walk away from this on the moral grounds that Stefan was to blame, even if he had murdered two innocent guards.

  Magiere closed her eyes in resignation and nodded. That was enough answer for Leesil.

  "We'll try it your way, Wynn. " Leesil reached out to pat her hand. "We'll try it your way. But there's one more thing. By Stefan's tale, Vordana said he was here to watch. But for what and why?"

  "I caught that, as well, " Magiere said, "but I'm not certain what it means. "

  Elbows on knees, Leesil folded his hands and leaned his forehead upon them. "A spy... perhaps a scout, someone preparing a foothold for war. "

  Wynn sat up straight and spoke out too loudly. "That makes no sense. Belaski is prosperous, and Stravina is on constant guard from the provinces in what you call the War-lands. Who would invade—?"

  "Not from outside... from within, " Leesil said. "A civil war. If Buscan did send Vordana, then why hasn't he followed up? Unless he can't do so openly. Or it's possible someone else tried to place Vordana here on watch for a reason. "

  "It's not our concern, " Magiere said, though Wynn saw Leesil's words working upon her. "So, do we assist Lord Stefan... all three of you? This may get ugly in ways we can't foresee, and I want to be in agreement. "

  Chap yipped once, and Wynn nodded.

  "No matter what Elena says, " Leesil growled, "that lord is a self-serving bastard. Make him pay until it hurts. And as much as this pains me, make him throw in some horses. That barge isn't going to wait for us, and we'll be back to traveling by land when this is over. "

  "We'll gather our belongings from the barge in the morning, " Magiere said. "We stay on the manor grounds tonight.

  It seems to be the only place Vordana doesn't touch, and judging by the change in you and Wynn since we entered the manor, I believe that much. "

  "Yes, " Wynn said in relief. "I will tell them we are staying. "

  Magiere picked up her cloak and turned back to Wynn. "I'm glad you're with us.

  Wynn's face flushed. "I am, too. " To her surprise, she meant it. She only hoped that when the time came, she could do what she claimed.

  Chapter 8

  Leesil finished the most depressing day of his life. Well, perhaps not the most, but it ranked high in recent memory.

  The barge master was surprised that they planned to stay and offered to return most of their passage fee. Leesil took it, thanked him, and helped Wynn unload their belongings. He sent her back to the manor to prepare what she needed to find Vordana.

  Magiere hoped to catch Vordana in the forest, but they couldn't count on this, so they spent the morning in Pudiirlatsat getting the lay of the place. Dead-eyed townsfolk and bone-thin animals made Leesil wish they'd never left the barge the night before. Anywhere outside the manor grounds, a nagging exhaustion plagued him. They returned to the manor so he could regain his strength before nightfall, guessing that Vordana could move only at night. Unless Wynn presented reasons to the contrary, they decided to proceed in the same manner as they had always hunted before.

  Geza provided them crossbow quarrels, and Leesil prepared a pot of simmering garlic water. The cook, a stout older woman, didn't care for him in her kitchen, and she cast angry glances his way. Leesil offered her his most charming smile without effect. Once the garlic water was ready and partially cooled, he set the quarrels to soaking and asked that she leave them be. He filled flasks with oil and prepared torches, then went to see how Wynn was progressing. She sat at the main hall's table with her journals and a few unrolled parchments. Chap, Magiere, and Shade were already there.

  The hall was a pleasant place, if Leesil forgot the outside world that awaited them. The fire roared, and fresh mint tea and bread were on the table, so he helped himself.

  "Have you found anything?" he asked.

  Magiere sighed. "Nothing that helps. "

  Wynn raised an eyebrow, her lips pursed as if holding back a retort. She turned all her attention to Leesil as she answered. "Conjurors can bind a spirit, but the body is still dead. I think Vordana's body is more a vessel for his spirit than anything. That means his body may not last. From Stefan's description, Vordana's body does not revivify like a vampire's would, but it also means taking his head may not be enough. "

  Leesil swallowed a mouthful of bread and leaned closer to peer over Wynn at the journals and parchment scattered before the young sage. The writing was in a language he couldn't read. On one parchment were strange diagrams and symbols, and a list with one word written in Belaskian— dhampir.

  "So cutting his head off won't work?" he asked.

  Strands of brown hair escaped Wynn's braid to curl in wisps about her tired face. "No, it might destroy him, but I'm not certain. At worst, severing the head would separate his vision from his body, making his continued actions more difficult. "

  Magiere rubbed her forehead. "Why didn't you just say that earlier?"

  Wynn sucked in a deep breath and held it. When she finally answered, it was with a measured, forced calm that didn't quite hold. "Because I have no idea what Vordana truly is! I am making the best guesses—"

  "What about garlic?" Leesil cut in.

  Any diversion, no matter how annoying and weak, was better than these two taking out their frustration and fatigue on each other. Wynn shrugged and shook her head, and Leesil returned to sipping his tea. At least the sage had developed a backbone in dealing with Magiere's seething nature.

  "The trouble I see, " he said to Wynn, "is that he'll leech you and me on sight. Magiere and Chap don't seem affected by the consumption in the village. "

  "Yes, " Magiere replied, "and I don't want you and Wynn facing something you can't fight. "

  "Don't even think about taking on Vordana by yourself, " Leesil warned.

  Wynn rolled up her parchments, slid them into a leather cylinder, and tucked the case into her pack upon the floor.

  "Though Vordana drained Stefan's wife and child quickly, this would likely have required focus—again, only a guess. If Magiere and Chap can engage him immediately, he might not be able to center upon Leesil or me, and then perhaps Leesil can get to him. "

  "Sensible, " Leesil said. "All you need do is point the way, where and when he comes. "

  The young sage closed her journal, one thumb rubbing repeatedly along its leather spine. She stared at the tabletop, lost in thought.

  Leesil's wariness grew as he watched Wynn still worrying absently at the journal's spine. Before he could say anything, Elena entered, carrying a canvas satchel with both hands.

  She wore a freshly pressed dress of forest green, and her wheat-gold hair seemed to bounce on the air as she walked. "I'm sorry for the delay, " she said. "It took all day t
o raise the money. "

  Magiere sat upright. "What do you mean 'raise' the money? Stefan is paying out of his own coffers. "

  Elena looked at them all with confusion. "Stefan has no fortune. What Lady Byanka left him is beyond reach while he is trapped here. A small portion of the taxes supports the manor. For your fee, he contributed household money set aside for stores, though we have grain and crushed oats to keep us. Then this morning he also had two horses sold at a neighboring market. The rest of your fee was gathered from the townsfolk. They've been told of you and were glad to help pay. "

  Sounding neither bitter nor angry, Elena tried to explain as if she'd made some sort of mistake. The dhampir had come to save them, and Elena was openly grateful to live on porridge all winter to pay the agreed price.

  Leesil looked away, unable to the meet the girl's eyes, and his gaze passed over the pewter pitcher of red wine that rested beside two goblets on a side table. It took all his effort to keep from striding across the room to drown his frustration. A quick glance from Magiere was all the confirmation he needed before he took the bag from Elena.

  "How much did Stefan get for his horses?" he asked.

  "There was his war stallion and riding horse. I think forty silver shils, or about nine sovereigns, among what is here. Is it not enough?"

  Leesil knew Utile of the price of horseflesh, but it sounded like less than half of what such animals were worth. He reached into the satchel, counted out forty shils worth of coins, and handed the bag to Elena.

  "Buy proper food for the household, and give the rest back to your people. "

  "But, the dhampir said—"

  "Never mind. " Leesil dumped the coins in his hand onto the table. "This will be enough. "

  Elena looked at the pile and then at Leesil. Her perplexed frown didn't fade when she nodded and left the hall, satchel in hand.

  Leesil offered Magiere a halfhearted smile. "Nothing ever changes. "

  "Not in this world, " she replied, then shook off the moment and got up from her chair. "The sun is setting, and we should get to the edge of the town. Wynn, I want to keep this away from the people, if possible. "

  "Of course, " the sage agreed. "But I cannot be certain where Vordana will come from until I sense him. "

  Leesil strapped on his studded leather hauberk and belted his punching blades as he watched Magiere prepare. She put on her own hauberk and made certain her falchion slipped easily from its sheath. Her black hair tied back with a leather thong, its red glints matched the firelight tinge on her pale face. He wished he could watch her a little longer like this. There were two crossbows, and he handed the smaller one to Wynn.

  "Strap this over your back... just in case. I'll get the quarrels and meet you outside. "

  * * * *

  They walked out the manor's gate toward Pudurlatsat. As they neared the village, Wynn stopped in the road that led through its center to the river dock and knelt down. She rolled the cold lamp crystal between her trembling hands until its light burst forth, and set it beside her on the ground with her crossbow.

  There was so much to remember from years past. She recalled theories and processes she had studied in her homeland guild, recorded in scant notes throughout her journals. It was little more than what all apprentice sages learned of the arcane, among all other subjects studied. All theories, summation and postulation, but it would have to suffice.

  "I must focus, " she said, "if I am to tune my sight to the element of Spirit that pervades this place and see any shift within it. "

  A simplified explanation. She wished it were as simple to accomplish.

  "Get to it, " Magiere said. "We'll keep watch. "

  Wynn clenched her hands to stop their trembling.

  Ritual was the safest method, as she did not have the experience to hold all the symbols solely in her mind, as with a spell. It would also bolster potency and provide stability. She scratched the sign for Spirit in the earth with a wide circle around it, and then kneeled within the circle. She traced a smaller one around herself, and in the border between the two circumferences, she added shorthand sigils.

  Wynn remained still, pushing down uncertainty, and silently recited the processes scribed in the earth. Shutting her eyes, she placed her hands over them.

  She focused on letting the world fill her with its presence, its essence. She imagined herself breathing it in, and then made the essence flow through her palms and into her eyes. In her darkened sight, the scribed sigils appeared and rushed at her... into her... until her inner awareness spun with vertigo. Time stretched until she forgot how long she had knelt there, repeating the process until she felt her face—her eyes—begin to tingle beneath her hands.

  "Wynn?"

  "Shush... Leesil, leave her be. "

  "This is taking too long, " Leesil muttered.

  Wynn slumped, and her hands dropped to flatten on the ground and brace her up. She opened her eyes.

  Across the world's night colors lay a translucent mist of off white, just shy of blue. Its radiance permeated everything like a second view of the world overlaid across her normal sight. Within the buildings' dead wood, the radiance thinned, leaving shadowed hollows in the shapes of shacks, huts, and shops. The glimmer thickened near the earth and was even brighter in her hands upon it. She looked out through the forest, and the ghostly mist became a net through the branches, leaves, and needles of trees and brush.

  But even there, Wynn saw the waning essence as in the town structures.

  A nearby tree with barren limbs had lost nearly all its inner sheen, its frame like a skeleton of deep shadows. It was almost dead. She swallowed hard and breamed deep to quell the urge to vomit.

  "Wynn... did it work?" Leesil asked. "Can you see anything?"

  She turned, and the sight of Leesil startled her. He shimmered like a ghost illuminated from within. He shone most where his dark skin was exposed and least where his hauberk and clothing covered him. His amber irises were like stones caught in sunlight, so brilliant, they pained her eyes.

  "Yes..., " she answered, her voice heavy with effort. "I can see. "

  Leesil's radiance blurred ever so slightly.

  Wynn sat upright, though her stomach lurched. She looked about the forest and at the town ahead along the inland road. Nothing changed.

  Then she saw it again. A perceptible shift in the glimmering mist. It moved.

  "It... He is coming, " she rasped.

  "Where?" Magiere demanded from behind her.

  Wynn looked bom ways, along the town's landward side and through the trees, trying to discern the mist's flow. It was slowly building momentum. Its currents aligned, moving in the same direction.

  'To the east, " she said, and heard Chap's low snarl in answer. "In the trees back beyond the town. "

  "Leesil, cut through the town, and try to get past him, " Magiere said. "Chap and I will draw him back toward the road and try to ambush him this side of the bridge. We'll at least keep him off balance until you come up from behind. Wynn, stay behind Chap and me, and keep out of sight if possible. "

  Wynn reached for the dark shape of her crossbow.

  The mist's currents in the earth changed before her eyes. Still heading east, they paralleled the riverside road through town.

  "Wait, " she blurted out. "I think... think he moved on to the main road. "

  Leesil hissed under his breath. "Valhachkasej' a! He's walking straight into town. All right, same as before, but I'll head east through the woods and backtrack toward him. Try to keep him occupied. "

  Wynn watched Leesil snuff his torch and take off into the trees. His own glow mingled in the forest's web of essence, and then he was gone.

  "That's enough, Wynn, " Magiere said. "We know where he is. Come on. "

  Wynn arose and stepped from the circle.

  The world remained a distorted overlay of the ghostly and solid slurred across each other. It should have ended the moment she stepped free of the symbols scratched in the earth,
but it did not.

  Her vertigo sharpened. She crumpled to her knees again and vomited up her supper.

  Two hands grabbed Wynn's shoulders from behind, holding her upright.

  "What's wrong?" Magiere said.

  "It should have stopped, " Wynn gagged out. "I cannot... make it stop. "

  "Close your eyes, " Magiere said. "Don't look at anything. But we have to go, now!"

  Wynn was jerked around before she could close her eyes.

  Trails of radiance flowed through Magiere, as in Leesil, yet without his strange brilliance.

  And tangled as well within Magiere's essence were lines of shadow, like those of the dying tree. Ribbons of black wove through her glimmering blue-white essence, and...

  They moved.

  Wynn saw her hands clasped on Magiere's forearm and saw the glow from her own essence—her spirit—creeping toward Magiere's flesh. She lifted her gaze upward, but did not find the amber sparks of light she had seen in Leesil.

  Magiere's eyes were pits of darkness.

  * * * *

  Welstiel sat up without disorientation that night. For once, he had no dreams, no momentary lapse trying to remember the previous dawn.

  Chane had procured a large piece of heavy canvas and, as sunrise approached, found a dense copse. He hid the horses and rigged an enclosed tent, which he covered in branches until it blended with the land.

  "My father taught me, " he explained. "When hunting, we often slept outside. "

  Upon waking, Welstiel heard the soft sounds of creaking leather outside the tent and assumed Chane was saddling their horses for the night's travel. In spite of peaceful rest, Welstiel could not escape the memories evoked by the sight of his father's keep and all that happened mere. He sat in the makeshift tent, torn between relief for a moment's solitude and wanting some distraction to pull his thoughts from the past.

  "Are you awake?" Chane asked from outside.

  Welstiel twitched. "Yes. I'll be with you in a moment. "

  He closed his eyes and tried to clear his thoughts, but his frustration over Magiere's mysterious path wouldn't fade. This was the fourth nightfall since leaving Chemestuk, and still she traveled east.