by Colin Taber
The third Kavist stepped into the light; tall and broad, yet fresh-faced. It was Cherub.
Sef smiled with relief. “Cherub, please, your friends are holding us back from an important meeting with Heinz Kurgar?”
Cherub looked to Sef and then to me. Finally, as he blushed, he dropped his gaze to the floor, not willing to act.
I growled, “Kurgar took my family, and I will have them back!”
But the lead Kavist had his own anger brewing to make his voice raw, “Normally I’d not hit a woman, but today I’ll make an exception.”
Sef took a step forward. “You’ll be dead before you do!”
The Kavist put on a grim smile. “Says you?”
I stepped between them and raised my hands between their drawn swords. “Damn you, I’ll not be delayed. I’ve no fear of you – or ending you either.”
His eyes flickered between Sef and me. “Such big words for the witch of woe.”
“I’m no witch.”
“Then what are you?”
“Let me show you, and if I’m greater you may withdraw?”
He laughed. “I’m no fool! Get out of here, or I’ll skewer you!”
But I stood my ground between him and Sef and their steel. I let my hand slip to the breast of his armour.
He started at my touch, but stilled as if to dare me.
Sef hissed, “Juvela!” He thought I was going to feed again.
I whispered to the Kavist, “Can you feel the cold?”
A smirk came to his face as he shook his head, but then it faded.
In that other world, I’d begun to put pressure on his soul. Small tears opened in its defensive shell, and into those fissures seeped the void’s chill.
His gaze dropped to my hand, to where it rested on his armour, then it rose to again meet mine.
“I’m no witch, nor charlatan, or even a cult priest, I’m much more than any of these. I’m a direct child of Schoperde, the goddess of life...”
And then I began to draw his soul’s energy into mine.
He broke into a sweat as his skin paled and his lips began to tremble and go blue.
“...and because of that lineage...”
His eyes watered, and in them his life-light began to flicker.
“...I can take life away...”
He began swaying on his feet as his eyes rolled back to show their whites.
“...but also return it.”
I gritted my teeth as I stilled the flow, then reversed it.
It hurt. Oh by the gods it hurt! My hunger, which had bucked at the taste of his soul-stuff, now raged at being deprived.
I hissed, “I’m no witch; I’m something so much more than that. If I wanted to kill you, you’d already be dead, but I just want to pass you by.”
The colour came back to his face, his eyes righting themselves as the tremors died on his lips. He wasn't a priest, but he knew he’d just come close to death. With a quick swipe of his arm, he knocked my hand from his armour, yet with the contact broken his show of life faded. Silent, he just stared at me as he fell back into the shadows to hit the wall, and then slumped to the floor.
Sef and I went forward, passing the others as we headed for the Lord's office.
The door was closed, but the low drone of voices could be heard. I looked to Sef to see him nod, so I threw open the door and walked in.
The office sat as it always had, a large room heavy with ornamentation and wood – and now packed with Reformers. Kurgar sat back in Lord Liberigo's chair, comfortable at my father-in-law’s desk. His voice stilled at my entrance, after having been busy issuing orders for a ritual that with the passing of so much of the night was now quite near.
He looked to me and said, “Juvela...”
I strode past startled faces, too many of them familiar; including the Kavist high priest, Seig, and the Cabal's Mauricio.
Had they all been a party to the city’s fall? How long had they toiled to claim their positions and make their plans reality?
Did it matter now?
I just wanted my family, and to leave this bloody mess behind. “Kurgar, you know what I want.”
Sef followed with his sword out.
Mauricio said, “His title is Lord Kurgar, the Lord of Ossard.”
“Lord of the damned!”
Kurgar raised a hand. “Now, Juvela, really, you’re in no position to be making demands.”
“I hold every position!”
“Juvela, I need your family, and I’ll not be giving them up.”
“I don't think you understand what you're up against.”
He smiled, a cold light sparkling in his eyes. “No, Juvela, it’s you who doesn't understand.”
My perception drifted between worlds as I unrolled tendrils of power to entrap his soul and bend it to my will. Before me his soul lay; simple and innocuous, young and newborn.
And then the image shifted – its truth revealed.
Sef tensed beside me.
And Kurgar's true soul spread before us, bloated with power and the countless souls he’d devoured.
“Yes, Juvela, you’re not Ossard's only avatar. I’ve eaten much these past days, but also over the seasons and years.”
I just stared at him as my anger boiled.
Was I to be robbed of the chance to free my family, again?
I said, “But you’re serving the old gods, what of the new and our duty to Schoperde?”
He laughed. “While I’m an avatar, I’m not what you think.”
“Who’s your master?” I demanded.
“You really are ignorant. It’s true I’m an avatar, newly born and maturing into my own godhood, yet this life came to me not through Schoperde, but from the very gods she wished vanquished.”
Could the old gods bring forth life of their own?
“Yes Juvela, they can raise their own. In our world we have no need of maternal Schoperde, not any more.”
“But look at the death you bring!”
“And I’m not alone; there are more, and now we gather to celebrate the rise of a new Ossard.” He laughed. “And it’s us against you,” he paused as he dipped into the celestial before returning his perception to me, “you, with barely a dozen souls added to your own.”
I glared at him, my anger unrelieved and my doubts growing. I’d expected to just walk in, grab my family, and then leave, being all but unstoppable. I’d certainly not expected to be challenged by another avatar, let alone one stronger. Damn it, this was where fate had brought me, and that being the case, I could only assume that if silent Schoperde was going to aid me then it would be here.
I swallowed and said, “Schoperde will help me.”
Kurgar grinned while the cultists and cabalists about him laughed.
Sef shifted, uncomfortable.
Kurgar finally joined them to chuckle. “Really, Juvela, do I have to tell you everything?”
I stared at him, my apprehension stirring.
He went on, his eyes sparkling as he savoured his words, “Schoperde won’t be coming to your aid.”
“Of course she will.”
“What makes you so certain?”
As calmly as I could, I said, “It’s the only way for Life to win the divine war against Death.”
Fresh laughter met my answer.
Kurgar said, “Yes, it would be, wouldn’t it.”
And then I realised that he knew something very important.
He shook his head, but his smile didn’t fade. “Juvela, haven’t you realised yet?”
“Realised what?”
“The war’s over, and Schoperde lost. She’s dead.”
Dead?
I could only stare at him.
He went on, “The war ended two decades ago.”
“No!”
“The last great battles were fought much further back. They left her so weakened that all she could do was linger on while slowly wasting away. It all came to an end only recently. That’s why there’s none of her
priests left here and precious few anywhere else. It’s why she doesn’t bestow blessings, and why her faith fails.”
“This is a trick!”
He gave a dark laugh. “Look at the Cassaro Valley and the Northcountry; the land’s dying, it treeless and bleak. Life has abandoned this place and the whole of the world, every last bit of it.”
I hated to admit it, but his words stank of an uncomfortable truth. I wondered though; what of me, how could I have been born of her if she was no longer present?
Kurgar must have read my mind. “You and the others were her last desperate attempt to win back this world. The very effort of it, of seeding you, is what finally ended her sad and crippled form. We haven’t seen a sign of her since. It seems that she spent the last of her power – her very essence – giving your soul passage here.”
I didn’t know what to say.
But then I realised, for now and the task at hand, his revelation didn’t matter. I hadn’t come here to debate the fate of Schoperde; that was something for another time. I was here for Pedro and Maria. With Schoperde’s aid or not, I wouldn’t be leaving without them.
And amidst my fading confusion I became aware of something else; a thrumming in my soul. It was abuzz with offered power.
It was Sef’s faith, given freely, and rich and strong because of it. For him and so many others, I was a symbol of hope – and that was something very much alive and worth believing in.
Kurgar may have stolen hundreds of souls, perhaps even a thousand, yet I stood knowing that more had already offered me theirs. I didn't have to steal and feed on them like a starving dog tearing meat off a rotting carcass. My people wanted me to have the power they offered, not dozens, or scores, not even hundreds, but thousands. That was something Kurgar didn’t have – so I stepped forward and called upon them.
I sent out a ring of power that expanded across this world and the next. I could see their faint life-lights, now distant, yet they blazed as it reached them. With it I gave them the strength to flee the city and withstand the trials that would come. I also planted in them the knowledge that I needed them to confirm their hope and faith in me and our future.
The first new prayer of strength and wellness returned from Baruna and others also flared, at first a few, then scores, then hundreds, and finally thousands. They sent me their thoughts, love, and best wishes. After a moment the flow became a raging flood.
I looked to Kurgar. “You’ve no power compared to me.”
The muscles in his neck corded as his face flushed red. He could see what I’d done, and he knew that through it I could at the very least equal him. He also now understood that there were other ways to gain strength, and with his realisation came mine; I didn't have to feed on souls, what was coming to me was freely given – and would be there again when needed.
Kurgar growled, “This is nothing! When the ritual is complete – and you can't stop it – the dribbles of power your misguided followers allow you will flounder. I require nothing more than what’s already here!”
“I don’t want the city.” I gestured to the window and its view of fire and smoke. “It’s already ruined, and the ground soured. I just want my family.”
Behind his bravado he worried, his voice carrying a quaver. He’d never conceived that such power could be freely given, and now he wondered at which of us was stronger. I could sense his considerations.
If all she wanted was her family, and then she’d go...
He asked, “And what of your family? What if they're not all to hand?”
My mood cooled. “Not all?”
What had he done?
He looked to Sef, then back to me. “Your husband and daughter are alive, but not the others. They’re already beyond your reach.”
“The Lord and Lady are dead?”
He nodded. “As are the others who were taken.”
Sef shifted, his own anger growing.
“When?” I asked.
“Some at dawn and noon, more this evening. We used them to prepare the ritual’s foundations and frame. It’s a gradual thing, of layers and building.”
What a waste.
He asked, “If I free Pedro and Maria, will you leave the city?”
And without them the ritual would continue, but I couldn’t stop that – or could I?
The cultists had already all but won Ossard. I had to reconcile myself to that. What was going to happen was unstoppable, but perhaps – in the future – not undoable. As I’d seen before, for some magic there was such a thing as a counter-casting. Maybe the ritual could be undone.
“Alright,” I said, and I had an idea, a plan that would take more than a day to work. “Bring Pedro and Maria to me, but I also want the bodies of Lord and Lady Liberigo so Pedro can attend to them.”
Kurgar raised an eyebrow.
“My husband is a pious man and has been ever since his time in a monastery. Such things are important to him.”
“They are marred, ritual magic is not clean.”
“Bring them.”
He nodded to an attendant. “Fetch her family and the corpses. Bring them all here.”
The attendant bowed and left, leaving us to stand in silence.
Eventually Kurgar spoke, “Where will you take them?”
“You know where, I'm sure you've heard.”
He nodded. “The ruins then, and in league with Lae Velsanans.” His distaste showed.
“Indeed, what bad company we both keep.”
He chuckled. “You are powerful, but not strong enough. You can’t stop what happens here. In the end, with a city this size, the departure of you and your followers means nothing.”
“So you’ll let us seek our sanctuary and not harry us?”
He raised an eyebrow. “More demands? In the end, it won’t matter. You’ll find that you can’t sleep, knowing that your actions saved your family, but in turn doomed the strangers that I’ll have to use to replace them. That knowledge will drive you mad.”
I pressed him, “You’ll not harry us?”
He sneered. “You have my promise, for I needn’t bother with the likes of you.”
I nodded.
The door opened behind us.
Sef and I turned to find Pedro standing dirty and bruised with his hands and feet in chains. He swayed unsteadily, his eyes lost and unfocused. I went to him, slipping an arm about his thinned waist.
Brimming with the power of my people, I let some of it flow through to give him strength. Colour came back to his cheeks, his eyes locking onto mine, while his slack jaw settled into a tired smile. In a moment, life was restored to his grim face.
He whispered, “Oh, Juvela.” And one of his hands found one of my own to give it a squeeze.
An attendant came in behind him carrying Maria. She was also dirty, but in a better state.
“Mama!” she cried, reaching out for me.
Kurgar nodded to the attendant, and the man stepped around Pedro and put her down by my feet. She cuddled in close.
The attendant took a pendant from around her throat; instantly I could sense her mind again.
She was free!
I looked about for the promised bodies, but they were yet to arrive. Turning to Kurgar, I asked, “And the Lord and Lady?”
The attendant nodded at his glance.
Kurgar said, “They’re coming; I imagine they’re wrapping them.”
I nodded.
Noise beyond the door marked their delivery. They were each carried and wrapped in cloth, the fabric already stained.
I asked, “And what will you do with the Loyalists?”
He smiled. “You know there are bigger sacrifices to come. I could probably muster a thousand willing to offer themselves up for ritual magic, but ten thousand? I’ll keep them for that.”
The attendants brought the wrapped bodies to me and then pulled back their shrouds. Their faces lay there, bloodied and beaten, but also pale and waxen. It was indeed the Lord and Lady.
P
edro cried out.
I nodded. “So our deal is done?”
“Yes, and how will you get them from here?”
I’ll have your men take them to the roof.
“So you like to fly? That was always a part of Schoperde’s way; a penchant for the birds and wind.” He stood. “Let’s go, then, I’ve much else to do – and dawn nears.”
They removed Pedro's chains, seeing me hug him now unbound and free. I whispered, “My husband, be at peace until we’re safely away. You’ll see more strange things before then, but you’ll just have to trust me.”
He nodded, “You have my trust.”
-
Before long we stood on the roof, the bodies of the Lord and Lady between our two groups with their shrouds being tugged by the predawn wind. The sky to the east had grown brighter, its grey daring to take on some colour; fresh golds, ambers, and reds, all bravely peaking through the smoke-haze that blanketed so much of the city.
Kurgar asked, “So, you’ll just go?”
I looked to him, and then turned back to the tragic view.
Much of the city lay hidden behind countless plumes of smoke. The fires feeding them set every district to flare, while about it all thrummed the roar of flames and the last rage of dying battles.
What a waste.
I stepped forward to the bodies. “We’ll leave in a moment.” And then knelt between them to draw back their shrouds.
Kurgar's brow furrowed, his gaze intense.
I placed a hand on the breast of each body, it sitting over their hearts amidst congealed blood and opened flesh. The feel of it, chill and wet, was broken by the stiff texture of ruined clothes, and the arc and edge of smashed ribs.
Then I slipped into the celestial.
I searched for any sign of life; of fading embers or the sparks of souls.
Searching...
Normally, death would see a soul return to its god, but as they’d both been used to fuel ritual magic – something handled by mortal hands – the spending followed no natural or perfect path. I sought for something left over.
Seeking...
Like when stoking a fire with timber, often bits of bark and splinter would be left behind in a wood box or by a fire’s grate. It was for such a piece of soul-stuff that I now hunted.
