Lost Souls (Only the Inevitable Book 3)

by N E Riggs

  The woman gasped and turned to look at Brigid. “Don’t stop me!” She clutched tighter to the wall, trying to inch away from Brigid and the window. The sill didn’t extend any further, so she couldn’t get away.

  “Why—” Brigid paused to swallow hard. “Why are you here? What’s wrong?” She leaned further against the sill. It was less than a foot wide. When Brigid glanced down for a moment, her heart nearly stopped. The ground seemed much further away than ten stories. She forced her gaze back to the woman.

  “Everything is wrong. There’s no reason to live anymore. The world will end soon anyway, so what does it matter?”

  Brigid shivered as her own thoughts were echoed back at her. How close had she been to this, staring down into the canal? “It’s not—” She shook her head. “We need to keep going. Even if it hurts. Please come back inside.”

  The woman scoffed a laugh. “What would you know? You’re like everyone else, deluding yourself that somehow things will be okay. They won’t. Nothing will be.”

  “I understand. Believe me, I know. I quit my job three days ago because I couldn’t stop crying. For two days, I couldn’t get out of bed.”

  The woman finally turned to look at Brigid. “Then you understand. There’s no reason to live. We’ll all die soon anyway. Come with me.” She held one hand out to Brigid.

  Slowly, Brigid extended her arm. To reach the woman’s hand, she had to lean further out the window till her entire torso rested against the sill. She grasped the side of the window frame with one hand and took the woman’s hand with the other, holding tight. Her gaze flickered down. The street far below titled and twisted. Now it looked close, and very hard. “I’m scared of heights.”

  “It’s okay. I’m here with you. Death isn’t scary.”

  “I don’t want to die.” Tears filled Brigid’s eyes. She turned to the woman, because she couldn’t stand looking anywhere else. “I see no reason to live, but I don’t want to die. I’m still young. There’s so much left that I want to do.”

  “We’ll do those things in death, you and me together.” The woman’s nails bit into Brigid’s lower arm. She hadn’t let go of the wall yet. Despite her words, she didn’t want to die either. “The Yesterlords will bring us happiness. Aeons will be dead soon too, and everyone else. We’ll be happy together, Aeons and the Yesterlords and the Beloved and you and me and everyone else.”

  “I don’t want to fall.”

  The woman inched closer to Brigid. She let go of the building though she moved no closer to the edge. “It’s not falling. It’s flying. We’ll fly to the Yesterlords. In death, we’ll fly as much as we want.”

  “I can’t.” Brigid shook her head. Strands of hair had come free from her braid, and they lashed the side of her face. “I promised Nidor I wouldn’t hurt myself.” She couldn’t break a promise. Not to Nidor; not to anyone. Promises were the most important thing, right after vows. The Yesterlords wouldn’t welcome her with open arms, not if she died breaking a promise.

  A gentle smile touched the woman’s face. “We all make mistakes. The Yesterlords understand that. We’ll be free, free from hurt and pain and despair. Don’t be afraid. I’m not.” She closed her eyes and stepped off the ledge.

  Brigid screamed. She kicked her legs out to both sides and jerked back inside. A moment later, a terrible force tried to pull her back out the window and down. She and the woman still held hands. Brigid tightened her grip, her legs shaking as she tried to keep from falling out the window. The woman hung below her, pressed against the side of the building. Screams came from below, loud enough to reach this far.

  The woman raised her head. The smile was gone. “Oh, Aeons. I don’t want to die! Help me!”

  “Don’t let go.” Brigid let go of the side of the window so she could use both hands to hold onto the woman. She had no upper body strength. She wouldn’t be able to hold on for long. She strained back again and managed to get maybe an inch back inside the window. Her legs ached as they pressed against the wall. Brigid wondered if she shouldn’t have kicked out. It might be easier to pull back if she could press against the wall. It was too late for that now.

  “Please save me.”

  Brigid shook hair out of her face. Her palms were wet with sweat. The woman slipped a little, enough that Brigid now grasped her less of her hand and arm. “I won’t let go. I’ll never let go.” Her arms shook, and she felt like her shoulders would break off from her body. She couldn’t hold on. She wasn’t strong enough. Neither was she strong enough to pull the woman back inside. She didn’t even know if she could pull herself inside.

  “Let me go.” Brigid could see white all around the woman’s eyes. “If you don’t, you’ll fall too.”

  “I won’t.”

  “There’s no point in both of us dying! I wanted this! You didn’t!”

  Brigid growled and kicked at the wall again. She got another inch or so inside, but her grip on the woman slipped further. “I will not let you go!”

  “You promised not to hurt yourself.”

  “Saving myself by letting you go is worse than breaking a promise!” A breeze gusted past, pushing the woman to the left. Brigid’s grip slipped further. Now she held the woman only by the fingers. “We’re both surviving this!”

  The woman shook her head. “I—I can’t hold on. I’m going to fall.”

  “No—”

  Suddenly another person appeared beside Brigid, body slamming into the side of the window. A man; that was all Brigid had time to notice. The shock made her slip further over the ledge, but a strong arm wrapped around her waist. The man reached down and wrapped a large hand around the woman’s wrist. “I’ve got you.”

  The man pulled back. Soon Brigid was inside again; her legs gave out from under her, and she slumped to the floor. She still gripped the woman, even though Brigid couldn’t feel her hands anymore. The man released her so he could hold the woman in both hands as he carried her through the window. He placed her on the floor beside Brigid. Brigid noticed finally that the man wore the uniform of a Sword Priest of the watch. Someone must have called for help, and the help came exactly when it needed to.

  “Thank you.” The woman clutched at the man and Brigid both. “I’m sorry.”

  The man put his hand on her shoulder. “We all feel the desolation. Sometimes it comes so strongly that we can’t think of anything else.”

  “I don’t want to die.” The woman pulled up her legs, pressing them against her body, head resting on her knees. “I don’t want to die, but what’s the point of living?” Tears streaked her pretty face. “At least I didn’t pull you down with me,” she whispered to Brigid.

  Brigid still held the woman’s hand, and the woman gripped her just as tight in return. “I’m scared too. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

  With a sigh, the Sword Priest knelt on the floor before them. He had dark skin, no hair, and pale eyes. “We’re all scared. We used to think we knew what the future held. We had confidence at least that the future would be good. We don’t have that anymore. We have to find our own hope.”

  “How do you do it?” the woman asked him. “How do you keep fighting?”

  The Sword Priest shook his head, but he smiled softly. “I made a vow. I will fight for as long as I have strength. It doesn’t matter if my efforts have any effect. What matters is that I keep trying. When I do die, I will meet the Yesterlords with my head held high, unashamed of the life I led.”

  Brigid caught her breath. “I want that too.”

  “To fight?” the Sword Priest asked, eyebrow asked.

  “No. I want that purpose. I think—I think, if I had something that important to do, I could keep on going, no matter what else happened around me. If I had a vow to keep, something more important than my own life.” Brigid nodded. “That would keep me going. Let’s join the priesthood,” she told the woman.

  The woman stared back at her. “I don’t think I could be a priest. I’m a traveler. I’ve been here for ten yea
rs, but I’m still a traveler.”

  “Travelers can become priests,” the Sword Priest said. “I know many. There are some in my division.”

  “I’m going to be a Lost Priest,” Brigid decided. She had never thought before that travelers could feel the desolation the same way Bantonans could. Now she knew better. She couldn’t fight. The sight of blood made her feel faint, so she couldn’t be a Heart Priest. She had no strong sense of justice, so that ruled out Law. Beloved wasn’t an option anymore, not really, and neither did she consider the Passion. Lost Priest seemed an obvious choice after today.

  “I—” The woman looked between Brigid and the Sword Priest. “I’m going to become a Beloved Priest. I should have died today, but I’m still alive. I won’t despair again, I promise.”

  The Sword Priest nodded. “Good.” He stood and moved a short distance away, holding a com pad. Probably reporting that the situation was in hand.

  “My name is Ogoda,” the woman said. “Just Ogoda. My people don’t have last names.”

  “Brigid Dana.”

  Ogoda still held Brigid’s hand; Brigid hadn’t let go either. “I don’t know the first thing about becoming a priest of any kind, but I will find a purpose. I promise I will, and I promise that I won’t ever reach this point again.

  Brigid nodded. “Me too.”

  The Sword Priest wouldn’t let them leave until someone came to pick them up. A short, older man came to collect Ogoda; probably her father, from the resemblance. Ogoda finally let go of Brigid. She sprang to her feet, raced over to the man, and collapsed in his arms, weeping. “Be gentle with her,” the Sword Priest told the man. “Watch over her the next few days, just in case. If she doesn’t recover, call the desolation councilors in Pardis.”

  “I won’t take my eyes off her,” the man said. He put an arm around Ogoda’s shoulders and escorted her out.

  Brigid sat down on one of the chairs. Her body ached all over. The window was closed now, and Brigid avoided looking at it. A few minutes after Ogoda left, Nidor arrived. “Brigid!” He dashed across the room and grabbed her upper arms. “Are you okay? I heard you nearly fell! I’ve been looking all over for you! I’m sorry I lost track of you.” He closed his eyes and pulled Brigid against his chest.

  “I’m okay.” She breathed deeply of Nidor. He smelled of freshly cut grass and nutmeg and safety. “I’m okay now. Really.”

  “What happened? How did you end up here?”

  Brigid shook her head. “I don’t know. I saw Ogoda was going to jump, and I just… stopped thinking.” She had been foolish, running to help without any idea what to do or say. Now she saw that it could have ended horribly, with one or both of them dead on the street below. Without the Sword Priest, at least one of them would be dead for sure.

  Nidor kissed the top of her head. “I’m proud of you. You were having trouble too, but when someone needed you, you went to help.”

  “I didn’t help. Not really. Ogoda almost convinced me to jump with her.”

  Nidor tightened his grip on her. “You didn’t. However it happened, you didn’t die and neither did she. That’s the important part. That, and you wanting to help.” He walked her out of the room, keeping an arm around her shoulder. Brigid paused at the elevator to look one last time at the Sword Priest. He was looking out the window, not paying her any attention, as if saving two people was just another day’s work. For a Sword Priest, it was.

  Just for a moment, Brigid wished she could be a Sword Priest. They made a difference like no one else. She wasn’t strong though, and the thought of facing monsters made her knees buckle. Only Nidor’s arm around her kept her up.

  Outside the building a few people still clustered. They murmured about how frightened they’d been, especially when Ogoda fell. They were all happy that no one had died, though some seemed shaken to Brigid. She made Nidor veer to the left so they missed the crowd. She didn’t know if any of them recognized her, and she didn’t want them staring at her or asking her questions.

  They walked slowly to the nearest gateway. “Will you go back to work? The museum misses you. I’ve been talking with Moten.”

  “No. I won’t go back to the museum. Not ever.”

  “Why not?” Nidor held her at arm’s length, searching her face. “I thought you were better.”

  “I am. That’s why I can’t go back to the museum. I’m going to become a Lost Priest.”

  Nidor’s jaw dropped. “A Lost Priest?” he asked at last. “Why?”

  “Because I have to help people.” She could see he still didn’t understand. “I was saved, Nidor, two times. First when Ogoda and I nearly fell and we both realized we wanted to live, and again when the Sword Priest pulled us to safety. Afterward, when we were waiting to go home, we both promised to join the priesthood. Ogoda is going to the Beloved, and I’m going to become a Lost Priest.”

  “That’s…” Nidor scratched his head. “That’s wonderful, of course, but I still don’t understand why. You want to help people. That’s great. There are other ways to help people than to become a priest.”

  “I need the vow.” When she glanced at him, Brigid saw he still didn’t understand. She thought he never would. That made her heart ache. He would support her if she joined the Lost, but she couldn’t date someone who didn’t understand. It wasn’t just about helping people, though that was part of it. She could feel the desolation tugging at her, trying to make her despair again. On her own, she couldn’t hold it off. Even surrounded by people who loved her, she would succumb again.

  She needed a vow to keep her strong, like the Sword Priest had. She needed something greater than herself, a purpose that defined her life. Something that was so important, she couldn’t die or give up. Something that she could be proud of, whatever else happened. There was no shortage of travelers now. If anything, they seemed more common. They still needed help adjusting to Bantong. They needed help against the desolation, same as anyone else.

  This was how Brigid planned to make things better. This was how Brigid planned to keep herself focused on life and hope and other positive things.

  The next day, cleaned and fed and feeling better than she had in days, Brigid walked to Kumarkan to apply. “Why do you wish to serve the Lost?” asked the woman in charge of the testing center – she wore no uniform, so she must be a civilian. Anyone could hand out application forms and oversee people as they sat an exam.

  “Because I nearly died yesterday.” Brigid handed in her application form and took the test. She hadn’t studied for it. If Aeons meant for her to become a Lost Priest, she would pass. Half the exam was history, which, since until a few days ago Brigid had worked in a museum, was easy. The rest covered information on many of the allied worlds and protocol for meeting travelers who weren’t from the allied worlds. Brigid knew none of it, but it was pretty logical. A person from a primitive world, confronted with Bantonan technology, didn’t need explanations about science; they just needed to know how it worked. How anyone could get that question wrong, Brigid didn’t know.

  Four other people tested at the same time she did. There were seats enough for another twenty people in the room. All the sects had fewer applicants since the desolation began. Fewer tried for the priesthood, but more made it in. When the test was finished and the papers turned in, Brigid saw her fellow applicants looked just as determined as she. Three were younger, probably barely out of school, though one might have finished university. The last was a middle-aged man.

  When the woman in charge returned, she smiled. “Congratulations, you all passed.” The younger people cheered, but Brigid just smiled. While she had been nervous prior to the exam, once she saw the questions, she knew she’d pass. “Report here again tomorrow with your things for training. You will serve for six months as an acolyte. After that, you will be tested again and take your vows to become Brothers and Sisters.”

  “When do we get the gift?” the youngest man said – a boy, really. Brigid didn’t think he could be a day over
eighteen.

  “Only Vicars and higher receive the gift of empathy,” said the woman. “If you work hard, you might achieve that in three years.” The boy slumped in his chair, clearly disappointed. Brigid shook her head. Anyone who was here just for the gift didn’t deserve it. The priesthood wasn’t about gaining powers; that was just a side effect. It was about service and making vows and helping people. The gift just made the service easier.

  When she got back home, Brigid stopped to speak with her landlord. “I’m moving out tomorrow to become a Lost Priest. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more notice.”

  Her landlord blinked. “The Lost, huh? Well, you do like history. May Aeons watch over your development with joy. Make sure to turn in your keys before you leave. If your apartment isn’t clean, you won’t get your deposit back.”

  In her apartment, Brigid got to work. She had only lived here a year and a half, but she had accumulated a lot of stuff in that time. She boxed up her clothes and belongings; while she would take some of it with her, the rest she’d put into storage. Nidor showed up mid-afternoon and helped Brigid cart her furniture out. They found a pawn shop a few blocks away and sold it off, along with her kitchen supplies.

  “This is it, you know,” Nidor said as they walked back to her now bare apartment. “There’s no going back now. You have to become a Lost Priest.”

  “I will.”

  Nidor bit his lip. “Will you… have time for me?”

  Brigid shrugged. “I should have one evening free a week while I’m an acolyte.”

  “That isn’t very much. And you don’t sound upset about that.”

  Brigid shrugged again. Nidor was sweet. She would like to keep him in her life, but she didn’t think they’d last long. He didn’t understand. Maybe he would, given time. She would give him that chance, but whenever she thought about her future, she didn’t see Nidor as part of it. That made her sad, but only for a moment. She had far too much to look forward to.