Dread of Spirit: Rise of the Mage - Book One

by Jason Bilicic

  “Yes.”

  “Ask him how in all the Hells he resisted the return? I’ve never met anyone that could just say no. Hells!” The vampire sounded genuinely unhappy. “Ask him.”

  “Later,” Shaia snapped. “Later.”

  “Damn it all,” Micah muttered, his words dying as he turned away from brother and sister.

  “Where are we going?” Kelc asked, shaking his head as a snowflake snuck in and hit him square in the face. “What direction?” The effort of speaking drew another coughing fit.

  “Kelc,” Shaia said after his spasms quieted, a little fear entering her voice while she shook her head once. “We need you to tell us that.”

  “And as soon as possible,” Micah added. “The wardens or deputies, or whatever, will be back soon, I’d guess. Very soon.”

  Kelc squinted against the grey sky, wishing that some great god would appear there to guide them. A fit of coughing closed his chest until he choked for a time, Shaia hugged against him the entire time. They wanted him to tell them.

  Imbecile, he yelled in his mind, realizing that his power, a power he didn’t understand, had put him in charge. Now I have to make all the decisions? “Damn it all,” he choked.

  Where in all the Hells can we go?

  Kelc struggled to sit up. The effort brought another coughing fit. “Where are the deputies?” he grumbled as Shaia helped him into an upright position.

  “Tasher and Hull Jista pushed north several glasses ago,” Shaia said, “and Kreg is still northeast, closing in on us very slowly, if that is his intent.”

  Kelc raised an arm and used his sleeve to wipe snow and damp from his forehead. “But we don’t really know where the other two went?”

  Micah shook his head, stepping up to Kelc and squatting down to look into the younger man’s eyes.

  “But they will be back,” he said. “They tore off out of Wemmerton as if they knew exactly what they were about. Had I not sunk you into torpor, they’d have been on us in no time.”

  “Sunk us,” Kelc said absently. “You did that?” It should have been obvious, Kelc thought, considering he agreed to let Micah do something to him before it happened. “So, we were in the ground?” Kelc asked, nodding weakly, fighting an oncoming cough.

  “You were. I pushed you into the ground the way that…my kind do when they need rest.” Micah flexed his hands, gripping his knees. “You were down for a considerable time. And you resisted somehow. I’ve never seen…that.”

  “It was a river of spirit,” Kelc told him. “It gnawed at me, tearing me apart bit by bit. I had no idea what was happening when you started calling my name, or whatever. All I could tell was that I was being ripped apart. I resisted for a time.”

  “Ripped apart?” Micah said. “When I go into the river, if a river it is, it reinvigorates my flesh and feeds my spirit. It is the health of my people, that river, though I’ve never seen it as such. I can feel the flow of it when I am down there.”

  “It’s a river alright,” Kelc assured him. “It flows northeast and is wider than I could see. Slow,” he said, remembering the lumbering flow. “I wonder why it attacked me but helps you.”

  “He’s dead,” Shaia said, glancing from Micah to Kelc and back. “Micah is not a man.”

  The vampire’s head jerked around to look at the young woman, his nostrils flaring as his lips parted to respond. But he suddenly froze as if gaining control of himself. His mouth closed and he merely nodded. After a short time he said, “That may be so. My kind is not considered living or dead by the priests in Reman.”

  “So…” Kelc shut his eyes hard.

  “Kelc, think about it. Where did father say that most nations placed their dead, without rending them?” Shaia stood up behind her brother, leaving her legs pressed against his back to give him support. “Like in Plynne.”

  “In the ground…” Kelc shrugged.

  “So, that seems to be some means to reclaim the souls of their dead. No one ever talks of the endless ghosts of Plynne.” She touched her brother’s head, combing her fingers through his hair, knocking snow from it.

  “I guess, but where is it going?” Only silence answered Kelc’s question, all three watching as fat snowflakes drifted down around them. “And why does it not steal Micah’s spirit?”

  The vampire shook his head. “We must go, my friends.”

  Kelc looked up at him sharply, ready to contest the title of friends, but decided that there would be a better time.

  “Kelc, use your spirit sense and heal yourself. I can feel…him here with us.” A tremor passed through Shaia as if she’d just found a spider on her arm.

  Kelc’s eyes change from grey-green to purple as he reached out for spirits, instantly understanding Shaia’s reaction.

  The spirit of Dell Pyter, what was left of it, still stood nearby, no intent or fight in the essence. His every fiber radiated defeat, crushed by a will so strong that it ripped the soul from its vessel before its time, trapping it into subservience.

  Kelc wasted no time. He grabbed Pyter and in what felt like a merciful death, ripped the spirit down into its fundamental pieces in mere moments. Armed with such usable power, Kelc dropped into his own flesh and repaired himself.

  It took longer than before. Rather than simply encouraging tissue he could see to reknit, he had to observe his blood and then force his body to create more, as it seemed to him that it was having too few blood particles that most affected him.

  Kelc found any number of areas in his body that created his blood. Porous patches seemed to be attached to his ribs and shoulder blades. Smaller patches sat tucked into his joints, in both his legs and arms.

  Spending Dell Pyter’s spirit, Kelc could entice the areas, marrow he knew from working with dead bodies, to issue more blood. Once started, it seemed as if running out of blood would be impossible. The body, Kelc found, could create countless particles of blood, the numbers simply overwhelming.

  He could feel his body return to something close to normalcy, though it still reeled a bit after being sunk into the ground by Micah. After a few more moments, he brought his blood production back to normal and withdrew from his flesh.

  Shaia and Micah waited, motionless, while Kelc worked. Their eyes fruitlessly scanned their surroundings, heavy snowfall limiting them. Shaia sank back down behind her brother while he worked, after cold crept back into her flesh.

  Micah moved not a muscle until the purple faded from Kelc’s eyes and the alert response of consciousness returned.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Much,” answered Kelc with a crooked grin. Somehow, he could not harbor real anger for Micah. Whatever he was, vampire or spirit, Micah was simply struggling to survive. A snake is a snake, Kelc thought. Better to not grow angry at it for being such. “I feel much better.”

  “Do you know where we should go then?”

  “It seems the deputies are playing some sort of game here. And while they may have come here just for you,” Kelc said, nodding at Micah, “now they will know Shaia and I were here as well, I’d guess.” Kelc grunted as he climbed to his feet with help from both Shaia and Micah. “Or at least they’ll know they have more than a vampire to contend with. The scene where Pyter died is unlike anything they’d find from your kind?” Kelc asked.

  “Absolutely,” Micah answered quietly. “I didn’t know a man could be so completely annihilated.” The vampire frowned as if the memory troubled even him.

  “So then…” Kelc said, thinking for a moment, “this is all some sort of strategy from the deputies now. They are master trackers and the lack of something as simple as tracks in snow is not beyond their notice.” He raised both hands to his head, massaging it a bit as a dull pain began.

  “They’re herding us south then?” Micah offered. “All of them are essentially north of us. Right?” He looked to Shaia.

  “Yes,” she answered. “But why? Is there some type of lawmen in Skurgaard that can handle us better than they can? Or are they
just letting us escape after finding Pyter? Maybe they know they can’t defeat you, Kelc.”

  Shaia stepped around her brother and brushed snow from him before she plucked their blankets from the ground, shaking crusted snow from them as well.

  “I can’t believe that. And thinking that I can defeat them could lead us to oblivion.” Kelc turned and peered into the falling snow, looking north though he could see no more than a few hundred paces, if that. “And Skurgaard may have answers for our power. The Vanguard houses troops there. If simple deputies know so much of spirits…”

  “Then so will the best of Symea,” Shaia said, finishing the thought. “So then where to? The border between Symea and Reman is protected by Chinggen Mor, and Thray Chalm north of that. If Skurgaard houses knowledge to stop us then those cities certainly will, being so close to Reman.”

  “What about west?” Micah asked. “Is there nothing there at all?” The gaunt man looked worse as his hair fell beneath the weight of moisture that plastered it to his head like a dark brown mat.

  “Just small towns, villages really.” Kelc turned to look west, Micah and Shaia still behind him. “And father said the land ends in a great cliff at the sea. But everyone in those places will be Symean to the bone and help for strangers, especially those as odd as we are, will be sparse. They certainly won’t help us out of Symea. They’d have the deputies right back on us.”

  “Well, we’ve effectively discounted every option,” Micah said, his agitation audible. “What is straight north?” He pushed his wet hair back off of his forehead.

  “Mountains,” Kelc responded immediately. “Big ones. And the deputies are out there as well. The only passages around those mountains are all heavily guarded. Symea placed fortresses in every usable pass in order to rebel from the empire.”

  “Which time?” Shaia snorted. Kelc glanced at his sister, but she shook her head. She wanted no answer.

  “I agree that the deputies want us to head south,” Kelc announced as he turned back to face Micah and his sister. “And that makes me want that as our last option.”

  Kelc drew his skiver and in a moment marked by a brief stain of purple in his eyes, he directed the last of Pyter’s energy into the knife. It reddened in his hand, drawing wide-eyed looks from Shaia and Micah.

  “North, too, is no option. We can hardly cross the entire countryside and sneak past fortresses.” He slid the black blade back into its scabbard even as the reddish hue faded from it, the heat not enough to damage the hardened leather. “And west?” He shook his head, glancing from Micah’s sedate brown eyes to his sister’s. “I think we have to head straight at Kreg.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Shaia spat. “He’s the best of them, and you’re hardly going to blast him into pieces as you did Pyter. He’s Kreg!”

  “I know, but every other option is…unknown. With Kreg, we know what we’re dealing with. And you can feel exactly where he is.” Kelc looked at the ground, at the trampled snow and the few blades of tan grass that stuck up through the white. “We need to try and skirt past him.”

  “Don’t you think that he’s the last person to allow that to happen?”

  “Shy,” Kelc said, his voice low, “on the day he left he told me a few things. He said he knew I was different, the best of us. He told me to make that work for me.”

  “Of course he’d say…”

  “He told me if I ever needed help with anything to seek him out.”

  “You’re a dark practitioner, Kelc. He’s not going to overlook that. I think he had smaller issues in mind when he told you that.” Shaia’s face flushed. “You’re going to get us all killed.”

  “You both speak of this fellow as if you’ve served under him. If you know enough to distract him, I can get up to him,” Micah told them both. “I can likely kill him if he’s not prepared.”

  Two sets of eyes narrowed and locked on the vampire.

  “We won’t kill him,” Kelc growled through gritted teeth.

  Shaia added her agreement.

  “Why, who is this greeching warden?”

  Kelc drew his scimitar but lowered it as he stepped up to Micah, his face only a few knuckles from his own. The vampire winced as Kelc stood so close, his hands flinching into a defensive position.

  “He’s the best among us.” The words felt as sharp as the blade in his hand and struck as true. “Whether it’s with a sword or strategy, on foot or ahorse, he’ll best us.” An image of Kreggen allowing Tasher a mortal strike in order to beat him in battle appeared in Kelc’s mind. “He has more will than anyone alive.” A deep breath quivered out of Kelc’s mouth. “And he’s our brother.”

  “What? Then, why,” Micah spat, a bit panicked. “Why head right at him if he’s such a skilled adversary? How can you expect to escape, to live through this mess?”

  Kelc gritted his teeth as he poked the tip of his sword into the crunchy snow, pushing it in until it struck the ground. As if the steel were linked to his eyelids, they closed as it slid downward. He sucked in a couple of deep breaths, calming his rage and trepidation before speaking.

  He pictured Kreggen, thought about how practical he was, how realistically he had always viewed the world. He could depend on his brother to make the best of a situation, understand where and when victory could be claimed.

  And for the warden to claim victory simply meant driving the taint of witchcraft from his realm, having someone to show to the people as the practitioner, appeasing their need to assess blame, an evil that once executed would indicate the end of such a profane corruption in their world.

  This is no longer a pleasure trip with Shy, Kelc thought. We aren’t going to go live a long happy life together. There’s only one goal now: Free Shy from Symea. I can do that, he told himself. Definitely. How can I expect to live through it? His eyes fluttered open before he answered, flicking from Micah to his sister.

  “I don’t,” he sighed quietly.

  The three walked in silence, their mood no different than their surroundings: Damp, dark and cold. Like shadows, they moved across the grasslands, dark shapes in a dim place.

  Snow fell slow and heavy, covering the ground more than a reach deep thus far, making each step more difficult than the last, the weight of the snow a burden to whomever blazed the trail.

  Behind them, Kelc noted, the snow quickly covered any sign of their passing. Almost instantly, it seemed, nature sought to erase their footsteps. Perhaps our whole existence, Kelc thought, looking briefly up into the darkening sky.

  Grey clouds glared down at him, relentless and merciless, apathetic to the lands below. Though nothing like the raging storm that Kelc experienced at his house, he felt as if the storm overhead somehow wanted to dispirit those below, lashing out with wave after wave of strength, sending sleet and snow to drive the insignificant creatures below into hiding.

  “Shy,” He said, only loud enough to make sure she could hear him as he adjusted the collar of his coat, pulling it hard against the back of his neck. “Where is he?”

  “Straight east.” She offered nothing more. She’d said nothing since Kelc announced that he expected to die on the journey.

  Her reaction had been devastating. Shaia’s face leached white as her eyes burned. Then, she turned and began walking. Without a word or gesture, she pushed through the snow until eventually nearing total exhaustion. At that point, Micah took the lead of their short file, using his body to plow through the snow.

  Kelc fell in behind him after Shaia waved him off, a violent gesture that told him plainly: Don’t touch me. She slowly followed, a bit distant but close enough for Kelc to glance back and make sure she was there and okay.

  Straight east. Right in front of us, Kelc thought. “Can you tell how far?” He turned his head to hear better, but Shaia offered no response. “Imbecile,” Kelc breathed. I should have said nothing.

  “It is nearing dark,” Micah said. “Do we seek some kind of shelter or push on through the night?”

  “Le
t’s see if we can build…”

  “Press on,” Shaia commanded.

  Kelc slowed to a stop along with Micah in order to discuss it.

  “Shy, we need to rest ourselves, and then…eat.”

  His sister walked around him as he talked and then, likewise, passed Micah and continued her march. She neither slowed nor looked back.

  “Shy!”

  “Stand capable, Kelc Varrlson!” Her words cut the air like a blade. Kelc could picture the disgust on her face and the heat in his.

  The two men shared a look before Kelc shook his head and gestured for Micah to follow her.

  Rather than focus on his sister, Kelc began thinking about everything that had happened in the last season. Henna Lanch. “Henna.” It seemed to Kelc, that his life had taken a serious turn toward the bizarre with the arrival of the dead girl.

  And then her father’s spirit had attacked him, forcing him to shred his essence into… What? He thought. “Pure energy?” he whispered. That seemed wrong to him though he couldn’t really explain why. It just felt wrong. “Spirit.” That was the only right answer.

  Then the deputies arrived to test everyone, but Adda had protected them all. Kelc remembered seeing her cry that day. He thought it was emotions then. Now, he thought it might have been exertion. “She stood in the middle of a group of deputies and practiced.” Kelc pulled a breath and sent it out, causing a cloud of hot breath before his face. “Can they not feel it?”

  “Huh?” Micah grunted. Kelc shook his head.

  “Nothing. Thinking out loud.”

  And then his father. “Greeching strange.” His father had sacrificed himself, allowing his wife to spit him. But then he’d told Kelc it was as it had to be. “Save your brother.” Those words loomed in Kelc’s mind. From who? Symea? Was Kreg supposed to come with them?

  How in all the greeching hells am I supposed to save him? Give him a lifetime of guilt after he beheads me? A derisive snort erupted from Kelc. Break him of this “honorable service in the name of Symea” nonsense?