Sister of the Dead

by J. C.

  Magiere stood within a cave inside the granite knoll. The vast area reached back at least a hundred paces. Directly ahead, in the cavern's center, was a thick granite slab resting upon two shorter blocks of stone. Its surface was partially covered by a rumpled white satin cloth. Before it stood a cast-iron vat hanging from a towering tripod over a stack of firewood. Leesil stepped up beside her, looking about the cavern.

  "Dhampir..., " a hollow voice said. The word wafted through the space up into the darkness overhead. "I had begun to doubt the reports. "

  Magiere peered into the darkness but could see nothing.

  Then, from beyond the torches a figure took form out of the shadows. Its hooded robe was dark gray. Torchlight across the fabric's folds revealed faint markings, symbols that shimmered in and out of sight. Across the upper half of his face was a mask of aged leather ending above a bony jaw.

  Vordana bowed to the new arrival.

  As the robed figure glided nearer, Magiere saw there were no eye slits in the mask. She wondered if this aged creature could see her, and she held out the tip of her falchion in warning.

  "That's close enough. "

  He stopped beyond the blade's reach. His head swiveled about as if he listened for something. When Chap circled around Leesil's side, the dog was quiet, but his jowls pulled back in a silent snarl. At that instant, the masked face turned directly toward the dog.

  Magiere's dhampir half rose enough that her senses expanded. She saw the masked man's chest rise and fall beneath the robe and felt his slight heat. He was alive and mortal for all she could tell.

  "You are Ubad?" she asked.

  "One of my names, " he answered, ending in a slur than made his voice hiss.

  "I have questions, " Magiere said coldly. "I'm told you have answers. "

  "Yes. And I've longed to tell them to you for many years. " Ubad faced his visitors and raised a leather-colored hand to point at Magiere. "Perfect. Your hair, flesh, power. Day combined with night, the living and the dead. "

  "Get to your answers, old man, " Leesil snapped. "I think you know the questions already. "

  A cluster of ghosts appeared instantly around them. The soldier with the stomach wound hovered near Leesil.

  "You're here on the whim of this thing... this oppressor, " Ubad said to Leesil, pointing to Chap. "I can do little about that, but you are nothing to me. Keep your tongue—or I'll keep it for you. "

  "Don't, " Magiere whispered, and flattened her free hand against Leesil's chest. "It's all right. "

  She caught sight of Wynn hiding behind Leesil. The sage peered out with wide eyes, still holding her cold lamp, but she looked at Vordana rather than the masked old man. It troubled Magiere that Vordana, who showed all signs of succumbing to decay, had not been destroyed as Wynn had thought.

  "How is he still standing?" Magiere asked of Ubad, nodding in the dead sorcerer's direction.

  Ubad swept a hand toward the spirits surrounding Magiere and the others. "I conjure the dead into my service and have learned much in my life's work. Vordana is loyal... and useful. He called upon me for help, and I preserved him. "

  "And if I severed his head right now, " Magiere asked, "would he still be useful?"

  Vordana shifted, his robe rustling around him. He, at least, was unnerved by her suggestion or uncertain what the result would be. It was more difficult to gauge Ubad's reaction beneath the mask, but his wrinkled lips tightened.

  "Did you come to discuss the welfare of my servants?" he asked, waiting briefly for an answer and continuing when none came. "How did you find me? Vordana only recently learned of your return to this land. "

  Magiere felt no obligation to answer any of Ubad's questions, but in this matter, she had sworn on Leesil's life. "Osceline sent us. "

  My apprentice? Vordana's voice filled Magiere's head. It appeared Osceline was as firmly connected to Vordana as to her Master Ubad.

  "Unexpected, " Ubad said, ignoring his servant's outburst. "But we have much to discuss, and I have much to show you. "

  "Who is my father?" she asked. "Is it Welstiel Massing?"

  'Too fast, too far, " Ubad answered with a shake of his head, and he turned to glide toward the stone slab in the cavern's center. His robe neither twisted nor rustled with his movement. "I'll show you, and afterward, you will thank me for dispelling this false front you wear. You have a far better purpose to fulfill. "

  "Answer me, and it had better ring true, " Magiere said. "I've no interest or trust in your twisted tales of my past. "

  He stopped, his back still to her. "Would you trust your mother?"

  Magiere's stomach lurched. "You can't fool me with some delusion. Your corpse servant already tried that. "

  "You misunderstand me, " Ubad replied. "I am no trickster of sorcery. I work with the dead, who are the past... and sometimes the future. The past is what leads us into the future, and you might ask your little sage and dog about that. Come here, child. Here is your past. "

  He gripped the edge of the white satin cloth and jerked it away.

  Lying upon the granite slab were carefully arranged bones, almost as white as the cloth on which they lay. The skull was set upon its jaw at the far right and appeared polished and cared for like a valued possession. The skeleton was human, the bones slender.

  Magiere stopped breathing.

  Chap lunged forward, snapping and growling. As he passed through the spirits directly in his path, he flinched away from the contact. He turned again toward Ubad as he circled to the cavern's right side.

  "No... no, " Wynn whispered.

  Ubad gave Chap no notice, but Vordana focused upon the dog. Magiere heard a resonating chant fill her mind as the sorcerer fixed his gaze upon Chap. Before she could take a step, Chap backstepped twice, and his growl cut short. He shook himself sharply and leaped, landing a few paces from Vordana, and let out a vicious series of snapping barks.

  Vordana didn't retreat, but Magiere saw him recoil, and his chanting ceased.

  "No advantage of surprise this time, " Leesil said. "It seems that won't work on him again. "

  Magiere stared at the bones upon the granite slab.

  "It's not her, " she said. "In my childhood, I visited the grave where my aunt buried her. "

  "Draw on your awareness, " Ubad challenged. 'Touch the bones, and see for yourself. "

  "She didn't die here. It won't work that way, and I think you know mat, " she rasped, anger feeding her frustration.

  Ubad shook his head with a shallow sigh. "This is not the same. She is your relation, your blood... bones of your bones. Touch her and see. "

  Unable to look away, Magiere took a step forward. Leesil grabbed her arm. "It's a trick, " he said. "And even if not, I told you in the graveyard. You don't want to see this. You don't want to see her die in your hands. "

  The air about Magiere whipped sharply, tossing her hair, and the soldier spirit lashed out at Leesil.

  Its translucent fist struck his temple and passed through his skull. Leesil buckled, eyes rolling up as the frenzy grew around Magiere.

  Spirits circled them, never touching her, but moving like wind-ripped trails of mist that dove at Leesil. Wynn backed toward the passage as she was struck, two blurred streaks in the air piercing through her chest. The sage crumpled to the cavern floor without even a whimper, and the cold lamp tumbled from her hands.

  "Ubad..., " Leesil groaned.

  He clung to Magiere's arm but dropped his blades. Magiere spun about, putting herself between him and the withered old man. She pulled Leesil close with her free hand, trying to shield him with her own body. She heard Wynn cry out in pain. Leesil pulled a stiletto from his wrist sheath and held it by its blade between them, where no one else could see.

  In her confusion, Magiere looked into his amber eyes, and he whispered to her. "Get to Ubad!"

  Leesil shoved her back and raised the stiletto. When he threw the blade, Magiere understood.

  She turned and charged, following the b
lade's path through the air.

  The stiletto tumbled toward Ubad's mask, but the old man didn't move. Magiere saw Vordana in the side of her view as the sorcerer raised a hand in panic.

  The stiletto froze in the air a hand's length from Ubad's face.

  Magiere closed on him, falchion swinging out. Vordana rushed in from her side, the topaz amulet in his hand, and then he stumbled as growls filled the air.

  Vordana fell back out of Magiere's sight, and the stiletto dropped with a muffled thud to the cavern's floor. Magiere heard Chap's snapping jaws and knew the undead sorcerer was well occupied. She stood perfectly still, the end curve of her sword slipped into Ubad's cowl and pressed against his throat.

  "Call off your dead, " she demanded. "Or you can join them even quicker. "

  Ubad neither gestured nor spoke.

  Chap's snarls lessened, and the sound of Vordana thrashing upon the ground faded.

  "Leesil?" she called out, keeping her eyes upon her prisoner, but no answer came. "Leesil!"

  "I'm all right, " he said from behind her, and she heard his ragged breath drawing close.

  "And Wynn?"

  A pause followed before he answered. "She's up again. "

  "Dead... alive, " Ubad whispered, and his thin mouth pulled into a smile. "They are not as far apart as most think. Not for such as you and me. Do you still want your answers?"

  He glided slowly back out her way, not even raising a hand to the shallow cut seeping blood on his throat. Magiere kept her eyes on him as she reached out to touch the skull upon the slab. Images flashed through her mind.

  Blue fabric... a dress. The one Aunt Bieja had given her. And long, dark hair.

  Magiere jerked her hand away.

  "No, " she whispered, and glanced toward Ubad, ready to run him through. "You had someone dig up my mother's grave?"

  He waved one hand as if the question were irrelevant and then held it out toward Vordana.

  The undead sorcerer got to his feet as Chap circled around behind him. Vordana moved cautiously as he pulled a pole torch from the ground and walked toward the cavern's center. Magiere backed away to keep him in sight, and Vordana shoved the torch head into the wood piled beneath the iron vat. Wild flames ignited.

  "I can allow you to speak with her, " Ubad suggested, "let her show you who you are."

  Magiere's heart pounded. To speak with a mother she'd never known, to hear Magelia even for a moment was something she had never imagined possible. This gift came from the hands of a death-monger like Ubad. Still, she couldn't turn away.

  "Only her and me?" she asked.

  Ubad nodded. "She will be in you. She will show you anything you ask. "

  "Do it. Do what you have to. "

  "Magiere!" Leesil snapped. "No. "

  Torchlight flickered across Ubad's mask. Magiere wondered at the expression hidden beneath it. Her revulsion grew past hatred.

  "Quiet, Leesil, " she said. "I'll know if it's a trick, if it isn't her. "

  Ubad drew a narrow dagger from inside his robe and picked up one of the loose bones on the slab. The sight of this creature touching her mother's remains made Magiere tense against the urge to cut him down. The dark liquid in the large vat was boiling, and it began dribbling over the side to hiss in the raging flames.

  Ubad held the bone over the vat and scraped it with the dagger's edge. White flecks fell from the blade into the roiling liquid. He set the bone on the floor and reached out his hand to Magiere.

  "You share blood and bone. Give me your hand. "

  Magiere kept her falchion up and held out her other hand. He sliced her smallest finger and squeezed it, until a drop of her blood followed the bone shavings into the vat.

  Ubad began to chant.

  The ghosts in the cavern vanished, and Vordana stepped back.

  Magiere had one moment to see Leesil's concerned face and Wynn's frightened eyes as the sage crept forward.

  The liquid in vat rose, spilling freely over the sides until its sizzle in the flames sent up a cloud of vapor mat nearly blotted out the tripod. An image formed in the mist.

  She was young and lovely and could easily have passed as Magiere's sister. Her skin wasn't as pale as Magiere's, and her black hair showed no glints of bloodred, but the resemblance was clear: a high, smooth forehead over thin arched eyebrows and a long, straight nose. She was tall and slender, wearing a blue dress that Magiere herself had worn on several occasions. Her brown eyes filled with confusion—and then her gaze fell upon Magiere.

  Ubad's chant grew louder.

  The young woman dropped lightly from the air to the granite floor. Her eyes locked with Magiere's, and she held out a hand. Magiere hesitated a moment, then took it. She felt no pain as the darkness of the cavern vanished.

  She stood upon a grassy hill in a forest, and through the trees she saw the low huts of Chemestuk. It was early fall, and in the nearby fields cut out of the forest were villagers at harvest, clearing weeds or pulling fat pumpkins and squashes from their vines. One woman caught Magiere's attention. At first she thought it might be the same one she'd seen in the cavern, but this one was shorter and stout of frame, dressed in purple. She stood from her labors and wiped perspiration from her face.

  It was Aunt Bieja, but younger, without the years weighing upon her.

  Magiere heard the cloth rustle in the low breeze and turned to find the woman in her blue dress standing beside her.

  "Mother?" she asked. "Magelia?"

  The woman settled a hand upon Magiere's cheek. "Daughter. I know you. "

  "Magiere, " she said back. "I'm Magiere. Aunt Bieja named me for you. "

  Tears slid down Magelia's face. "You grew up with Bieja? You have been happy?"

  Magiere didn't know how to respond. She wanted to touch her mother's tears, to comfort her, but she couldn't seem to move.

  "He took you that night, " Magelia whispered. "The night you were born, but he promised to protect you. I remember your soft hair. You were born with a head full of black hair, and those dark eyes, not blue like most babies. "

  "Mother. " The word was difficult to even say. "I must know what happened. How... I happened. "

  "Is that why you call me now?" Magelia's face darkened before Magiere, and it was like looking at her own angered reflection in a mirror. "You want to know your father?"

  "I need to know. "

  Magelia's expression softened again. "I don't care, as long as I can see you, touch you. " Magelia's fingers dropped from Magiere's cheek to grip her hand. "Come with me, back to the keep. "

  The grassy hill faded along with the autumn sky.

  * * * *

  Magelia had been moved to an upper-floor room of the keep, one without windows. She examined the door from top to bottom, but the lock was solid. The door would not even budge when pulled, and likely was barred on the outside.

  She was alone.

  For all her fear, she couldn't stop thinking of Bieja, how frightened she'd been the night of the abduction and how worried her sister must be. Wild thoughts of bribing servants to deliver messages ran through Magelia's mind, but she saw no one except the guards delivering her meals. Two always came. One remained in the passage while the other set her bowl upon the floor inside the door. She'd given up trying to goad or question them, as neither spoke a word to her.

  The only other person she'd seen was Welstiel, the noble with white patches at his temples, coldly polite. He had been the one to move her to this room.

  The room was chill and bare, with a thin mattress on the floor and a washbasin beside it. There was no other furniture.

  Her thoughts were broken by the sound of the door's bar drawing back. The door opened, and Lord Massing stepped in, the one called Bryen.

  He was tall and used his imposing stature to cow those around him. Looking at his dark hair and pale skin, she thought he might be handsome were it not for the blankness of his expression. The only quality she ever saw flicker upon his face was arrogance.

>   Magelia hated the sight of him.

  Tonight, he was beautifully dressed in black breeches, a tan shirt, and a chocolate brown tunic, with his hair carefully combed back. Behind him stood a young serving girl, clearly terrified of her lord. Magelia didn't recognize the girl, so she hadn't come from Chemestiik. The girl carried a silk gown, a hairbrush, and pins. The gown's color was somewhere between ivory and pale pink.

  'Take off that rag you're wearing, " Lord Massing ordered. "This girl will dress you properly. "

  "Not until you get out, " Magelia replied. She would not show him any fear.

  "You will not speak alone to anyone, " he said. 'Take off that dress, or I will do it for you. "

  It was not a threat. She could see that he was simply informing her of the consequences and waited for her to decide which indignity she chose. Magelia began unlacing her blue dress, and the girl hurried to assist her.

  Magelia turned away from Lord Massing to stand in nothing but her shift while the serving girl helped her into the silk gown and laced it tightly. The girl then brushed out her hair and pinned part of it atop her head, leaving enough free to curl down her shoulders and the back of her neck.

  "Sir?" the girl asked when she had finished.

  Bryen nodded. "Yes, much better. "

  Before Magelia turned around, he grasped her forearm. She didn't bother to fight, as it would do no good. He pulled her from the room and down the passage to another chamber.

  Through its open door she saw a large four-poster bed. Upon a small table, a globe rested in an iron pedestal. Lights flickered within its frosted glass. As she stepped inside, a movement caught her attention. Magelia saw herself in a long mirror on the wall by the table.

  She looked like a lady, one who might accompany her lord in the keep.

  The room appeared clean but had the thin stench of a spilled chamber pot overlaid with a lingering sweet odor she couldn't name. There were two others present as Lord Massing stepped in behind her. She saw their reflections in the mirror with her own and turned about.

  Standing near the bed was the masked and robed eyesore called Ubad. He wore a smile on his thin lips and tucked his hands into the opposing sleeves of his charcoal robe. On the far side of the bed stood Welstiel.