The Ossard Series (Books 1-3): The Fall of Ossard, Ossard's Hope, and Ossard's Shadow.

by Colin Taber

  I stepped closer. “Mother, Father, it’s me, Juvela. Are you well?”

  The kneeling maid, her eyes red from tears, said, “They won’t talk, they haven’t since sunset yesterday.”

  Father sat there turning something over and over in his hands. I knelt in front of him to see that it was the key to the business.

  And then my mother whispered, “The child?”

  Maria...

  I turned. “I haven't found her, I'm still looking.”

  She whispered again, her voice unbearably tense, “The child, the poor child!” She sat stiffly, her fingers trembling as her tears began.

  In the celestial, my grandmother walked about her trying to soothe her soul while she also wept. I could feel her guilt. She'd done this to her, to my mother, to her very own daughter, all those years ago as she’d been burnt to death.

  “Don’t worry, I'll find her. I'll get both her and Pedro, I swear.”

  And she mumbled on, “The child, the child!”

  I went to her and took her into my arms.

  She whispered again, “The child!”

  Grandmother stroked her soul, massaging it, trying to get her to relax.

  Mother calmed, yet still went on to repeat her mantra.

  I smoothed her hair and wiped tears from her cheeks. Something was broken in there. Whether it was the chaos of the city, the kidnappings, or the loss of Maria – it had all been too much.

  My mother pulled out of my embrace to settle back on the bench. She began to relax and go quiet, now composed again. Then, when I thought she’d found some kind of peace, she hissed, “The children, we must protect the children!” And her words saw us all grow tense.

  My father looked to me and said, “It’s all gone, the shop and warehouse. It’s all gone. There’s nothing left.”

  “Father, I’m so sorry to hear it.”

  He shook his head. “And what other ill news could there be?”

  “Father, the Inquisitor has put out an order for my arrest.”

  “Why?”

  “I don't know, but he's also named Heinz Kurgar.”

  “Why can't they just work together towards peace?”

  “Father, I don't think they want it.” And it was the first time I'd given voice to the truth.

  He fell silent, making me regret speaking such news.

  I asked the maids to pack for them, and to have them ready for travel. I said we’d be back to collect them when we left the city, and that they were also welcome to join us.

  -

  The ride home began in silence. Marco, Baruna, and the others read enough in my face to not ask any too many questions, but Sef had other ideas. “Juvela, we could send some people around to watch over them, perhaps to make sure that they’re ready to leave?”

  I considered it and decided the suggestion had merit. “Do it, it’ll be the only way we can make sure that they’re ready to go. We can have a few people stay there, but not in the house, just the stores and stables.”

  Sef nodded.

  -

  On the short ride home I worked at trying to forget what I’d seen. That was when something new grabbed my attention; a familiar face on the street. The man was only in view for a moment, but it was long enough.

  I knew him...

  He wore a hooded robe, yet I knew that strong jaw and those cold eyes. It was the cultist who’d stolen the red-headed boy prior to my coming of age, and then later sacrificed him while I lay under Pedro being deflowered.

  He’d know where my family was!

  “Stop!” I yelled, as I went for the door.

  The cultist stood at a street stall, but must have sensed me, for his head snapped about.

  I dropped to the cobbles.

  “Wait!” Sef called out.

  The cultist watched my charge, my power surging.

  He just stood there.

  My spirit soared as I closed. I reached out with my hands in the mortal world, and with spectral limbs that rippled with power in the celestial.

  But my eager hands passed right through him.

  What?

  I stopped hard against the stall, its merchant staring at me in fright. I stood there in confusion, the cultist’s image fading as my celestial limbs also failed to entrap anything.

  An illusion!

  I looked around.

  There, down an alleyway, he again stood grinning at me. His voice hissed for only me to hear, “You’ve so much to learn.” And it dragged through my mind like bog-dirty fingers.

  I charged after him again, my heart thumping like a drum.

  He turned and ran down a dirt alley that doubled as an open sewer, heading for the heart of Newbank's slums.

  I ran on, not caring for anything else. Every time he tried to lose me in those twisting ways, I’d just keep on.

  He darted ahead and around a bend, past stalls, bleak refugees, and a pair of men betting on knuckles. I just kept going. Finally, the alleyway opened into a small square hosting a crowded local market.

  I came to a stop, but couldn’t see him.

  I moved through the crowd towards an alley that seemed to be in the direction he’d been heading, but to no avail. I turned about to search the broader crowd.

  Where was he?

  With a sinking heart, I realised he'd chosen this place to make his escape. I searched the celestial, but already his scent was stale.

  “Juvela!” It was Sef, with the others not far behind.

  I fell to the ground to pound the dirt as my frustration overwhelmed me.

  Sef rushed to my side

  I spread the flats of my hands on the ground and cried out long and low in grief.

  He looked down, not knowing what had happened, but knew it had something to do with Pedro and Maria. He also knew that whatever the clue had been, that I’d lost it. He pleaded, “What can I do?”

  I hissed, “Damn them!”

  “Cultists?” Sef asked as the others gathered about.

  And then it cut through the celestial, “Mama, is that you?”

  It was Maria!

  I cried out as tears flooded my eyes.

  It was her!

  Sef asked, “Can you sense her?”

  And again it came, stronger this time as she sang out in desperation, “Mama!”

  Sef and the others started; even they’d felt it.

  I spoke the words and sent the thoughts, “Maria, I’m here! Tell me, are you alright?”

  “Mama, where’ve you been?”

  And the guilt her thoughts aroused was almost enough to overwhelm me. “I’m so sorry, my darling! Please, tell me where you are!”

  “Mama, they moved us. Please come and get us!”

  “Do you know where you are?”

  “It's windy, there are windows, but they’re too high for me to see out of. All I can see is the smoky sky. Mama, Papa’s sick!”

  And my joy faltered. “Oh Maria, what's wrong?”

  “They've been cutting him.”

  And my soul went numb. “Can you see him, is he there now?”

  “Mama, they steal his blood. They do it every day. They've taken him away to bleed him some more.”

  “Maria, I have to work out where you are. Do you know? Is there anything more that you can tell me?”

  I don’t know, Mama. It's windy and cold.”

  I begged her, “Maria, please, my love, tell me more. Are you sure you can’t see or hear anything else besides the wind and smoke?”

  “Sometimes I can hear the city, but the sounds are always faint.”

  I lifted my head and looked about. “It's Maria and she's close.”

  Sef also started looking around. “Where?”

  “She doesn't know. She says she can only see the sky out of the windows and nothing else. She must be high up.”

  And at one end of the square, rising up and over it, with a few ramshackle buildings crowded about its base, climbed a tower. It didn't look mighty like the Turo, but amidst a slum its
strong stonewalls made the five level building loom like a fortress. Its three top levels were each marked by small square windows, one set in the midst of each of its four walls.

  Sef was looking the same way.

  “That must be it!” I cried.

  “I guess so,” Sef answered, his words drowning in gloom.

  I looked to him in surprise.

  He was shaking his head. “We need to be sure. Ask her about the windows, ask her where they are in the wall, how many, and if they're long, round, or square.”

  “Maria, we need to be sure of which building you’re in. Describe the windows; where are they in the wall, and what are their shapes?”

  “They’re small squares above even Father's head. There’s one in each wall, in the middle.”

  “Good girl Maria, I think we know where you are!”

  “Come soon!”

  “As soon as we can.”

  I turned my attention back to Sef. “That's it!”

  He sighed in disbelief. “That's Kurgar's, the old tower I was telling you about.”

  “What?” I howled.

  The others just stood there, but I could read their thoughts:

  All else in Ossard is corrupt, that’s why we follow Juvela.

  Kurgar couldn't be involved in the kidnappings, could he? It had to be a mistake. If he was involved, then he was linked to the new saints, which meant the Reformers already held two-thirds of the city.

  All was lost!

  Felmaradis was right; the Inquisitor, the man who’d ordered my death, was the city's only hope.

  As the shock of it all faded, my anger only grew.

  All along Kurgar had wanted an alliance with the Reformers and been annoyed by my objections. I'd also been searching all of Ossard for Maria and Pedro except Newbank, where I thought they could never be.

  Damn, I was getting angry!

  And that fury stirred my power. I could feel the air about me cool and hear it crackle with energy that leaked between worlds. Amidst my rising rage a wave of black sparks rippled out from me to glitter in the dirt.

  Sef and the others jumped back, startled.

  Baruna said, “Juvela, you’ve great power, but you must control it!”

  I just wanted my family back – and to destroy their looming prison brick by brick...

  ...yet Baruna spoke sense.

  I had to stay in control. If I left it to my anger, I’d level the tower in one terrible moment, bringing its bulk crashing down upon the slums. I could wrap my family in a protective bubble and save them, but only after trading their lives for hundreds of others.

  I looked to Sef. “I want to get them now. If we leave to come back later they’ll just get moved. They already know we’re here because of the cultist I followed.”

  He nodded. “Juvela, I agree, but we must be careful. When we do this we’ll be turning the Guild against us and perhaps all of Newbank – and so much more.”

  He was right, and the more he spoke of was his fellow Kavists. If we moved, we’d have no friends left in Newbank and the wider city. We’d no longer have a choice; we’d have to leave.

  Baruna said, “Don’t worry, we’ll get your family, but let’s also ready our flight from Ossard.”

  I nodded. “Sef, do you know much about the tower? Can we get into it or do we need help? I feel like I can unleash enough power to bring it down, but not handle it carefully enough to do much else.”

  He shrugged. “I've passed it a hundred times, but never been inside. They left it standing when they dismantled the old wall. I'd expect its layout to be unremarkable, much like the new wall’s towers. Getting in will be the hard part, and then having the strength to overcome whatever force awaits. It can't be big in numbers, or I'd have heard about such a thing, but if they’re cultists they might also have priests.”

  I was still on my knees with my fingers digging into the hard packed dirt. Throughout the conversation I’d sent feelings of warmth and comfort to Maria, feelings she returned.

  Sef said, “We can't stay here like this, it’s drawing attention.”

  “We can't just leave!”

  “Do you still have Maria?”

  “Yes.”

  “And Pedro’s with her?”

  “No, they’re... they’re bleeding him.”

  Sef winced, but he wasn’t alone. “Can you contact him, I mean, how can we know where he is?”

  Some of my determination faded. “No, I can’t, only Maria.” And I could guess what Sef’s next words would be.

  “If we go in and get Maria, you’ll lose your only link to Pedro. We need to get them when they’re together.”

  He was right; we’d have to wait.

  Distant screams and the clash of fighting drifted to us, coming with a growing haze of smoke. It sounded close; the battle for the city had again crossed the river.

  “Ossard is chaos,” I whispered.

  Sef said, “If the building was owned by any other, I’d just fetch some of my fellows.”

  Marco asked, “If the Kavists knew of Kurgar's part in all this, would they not switch sides?”

  “Seig is our senior priest and close to Kurgar. He must know what’s going on. It sickens me to say it, but I think this has his blessing.” He paused before adding, “Perhaps that’s how they knew we were coming when we went to the opera house.”

  “Perhaps.”

  Sef looked defeated.

  I reached up to him with a hand, putting it softly into his.

  Poor Sef, my poor Sef, not only did he feel guilty for the stealing away of Maria, his charge, but also for the failure of our rescue attempt.

  Something of a smile came to his face at my touch, and I could feel a tingle as power flowed between us. I’d not meant to do anything but comfort him, and I did, but it came as a blessing. “It’ll be alright, Sef.”

  The sound of fighting rumbled on, coming from the river and also to the east. All the while the drifting smoke grew thicker.

  Marco offered, “Our own people can help; while most can work on readying to leaving the city, someone unknown to the cultists can stay here to watch over the tower before we return in force.”

  Someone unknown? Obviously, he didn’t mean Sef or I.

  “A good idea,” said Sef.

  Marco went on, “In the meantime, as we move against the tower, we can arrange for our people to leave the city and regroup beyond its walls.”

  The rising sounds of trouble saw the square begin to empty about us.

  Baruna said, “This could be our last day in the city.”

  Sef nodded. “We have to think of that; our last chance to pack supplies, seek out carts and drivers, and food and herbals.”

  I hated the idea of leaving Maria again, particularly if Pedro was hurt, but they were right. Besides, I couldn't go in there when they were handling him, they might kill him. Finally, I said, “Alright, but we move tonight.”

  They agreed.

  I added, “We also know that the Reformers are getting ready for a big ritual, so let's get as many people out of Ossard as we can. Tell people you trust, but no Reformers.” I looked to Sef. “I'm sorry, but that has to include other Kavists.”

  He nodded as his face flushed with shame.

  I sent a message of parting to Maria, a sweet and loving goodbye. I promised to return soon, for her and her father, and for her to be brave. Reluctantly, I then lifted my hands from the dirt to break our link.

  And straight away I knew it was the wrong thing to do. “Sef, I can't leave them again! We were so close at the opera house, and now we’re only closer, yet still it can all go so wrong. Perhaps we should just wait for Maria to tell us when Pedro's back and then go get them?”

  Sef held great worry in his eyes. “Juvela, listen to the riots, they worsen and near and so does their flames. We need to go, prepare, and then come back. We can’t wait here. For all we know, Pedro may never return to Maria.”

  Sef's words were hard to accept.

 
; My grandmother whispered, it passing through my mind like a cool winter breeze, “Leave them, Juvela, they’ll keep for another time.”

  “Sorry, this is so hard for me.”

  Marco said, “I'll stay and watch the tower. I’ll get a cloak from a stall, and then hunker down amidst the refugees.”

  I could trust him. I stepped forward and embraced him, it seeing my magic flare – a blessing. He drew himself back from me to look with wide eyes as his voice sounded, but only in my head, “Juvela, sweet Juvela, I can taste your love for them, for your family. I’ll not fail you. Can you feel me, my heart, mind and spirit?”

  “Yes,” I whispered.

  Aloud he said, “Go and know I’ll tell you of anything that happens here, otherwise I’ll see you when you return.”

  “I’m so grateful. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  He smiled, a warm and gentle thing. “For you I’d do anything.”

  “Oh Marco, this is no time for reckless sacrifices.”

  “But it is; in a dying city, that’s what will make all the difference.”

  “Marco, I ask nothing of you.”

  “But for Ossard’s Rose, our Lady of Hope, I’m prepared to give everything. Atalia told me that you were true, and now I’ve seen you, yet you’re still to fully awaken.”

  We stepped back from each other as I whispered, “I’ve seen your daughter and wife in the next world; they send their love.”

  He drew me back into his arms. “A daughter; you bring such hope!” Then he let go.

  -

  We got Marco a hooded cloak from a closing stall and left. He came with us before wrapping himself in it, and then turned back. He planned to settle into position in an alleyway opposite the tower's entrance, huddled amidst a group of refugees.

  The rest of us headed back towards our coach. From there we’d go home and prepare for our return to the slums, but also organise for our people’s flight from the city.

  The smoke thickened about us. Soon enough we passed a burning building, and not much after, our first body.

  The curse of the riots had well and truly returned.

  Those left in the open were hurrying through the haze, appearing as nothing but rushing shadows. I hoped Marco would be safe.

  Walking in a group, our number became lost in the billowing smoke. Our world was one of dim light, haze, and the flaring flash of flames. I called out, “If we get separated, just head for home.” I kept on while watching the silhouettes about me, all the while hoping that they were my people, but only Sef answered.