Leash
Della returned to find the mist spiralling around the courtyard – pulsing light on the tower walls like an act of worship. She angled into the cobbles but drew up, realising it was a mistake to return to her body the same way she had left it. Rising in its exact location required a great deal of luck and if she came up wrong the fieraks would give her away. So she went through the main entrance and followed the stairs down; descending neck deep into the stone floor at the bottom and inching through the dungeon’s iron door. Karkus was still there, fidgeting with his dagger. But to her relief Griglis was nowhere in sight. She shot across the dungeon; her severed ghost head sliding over the floor and repossessing her body with a twitch. Then she rolled over and peeked at Karkus through half open eyes. He was still on the barrel and there was no sign he suspected anything. But it had been a close thing - the fieraks were swarming around her now, flying into her and bouncing off. They had sensed her on the Membrane and if she had been any slower they would have turned her head into a green fireball. She swatted them away and when they lost interest she turned over again, falling to sleep despite everything that had happened.
She woke gasping in a drench of cold water, wiping wet hair from her face with bound forearms.
‘Wake up little witch. We’ve got a long day ahead.’ Griglis was standing over her with an empty pail. He seemed to have recovered from what had unsettled him and his gaze was steady. ‘Something upset your stomach?’ he asked, wrinkling his nose in mock disgust at the patch of vomit the fieraks were hovering over. ‘Now get up.’
She rose with an effort, her muscles raw and numb where they had endured the stone floor. And as she straightened, Karkus was suddenly towering over her with his dagger out.
She screamed and Griglis laughed. ‘She thinks you’re going to cut her again,’ he said. ‘Hold still or he might. He’s just cutting the rope. Remember, you’ve nothing to fear as long as you do exactly as you’re told.’
She relaxed as the rope fell away, but Karkus produced another one with a noose at the end. He put it over her head and drew the knot tight to her throat. ‘Your leash little witch. It’ll go tighter if I need it to.’
He stepped back and the two of them eyed her warily. She shivered under their gaze, her filthy shirt hanging over the sharp ramps of her collar bone and dripping water.
‘We walk a dangerous path today,’ said Griglis. ‘It would be unwise to make a distraction of yourself.’ And with that he led them out of the dungeon, Karkus pulling her to the stairway with the first of many tugs on the leash. They left the tower under a clear sky. Dawn was just breaking and the last remnants of night lingered in the west. The other toruck joined them in the courtyard and they filed through the broken gate.
They entered a forest thick with gloom and possessed by a ubiquitous watchfulness that Della remembered well. The Eastland had just gorged on a huge covering of mist and for the moment it was sated – curled up like a giant beast after a stomach stretching feast. But it wouldn’t last long. The vegetation was digesting its poison and by the time the sunlight penetrated the high canopy it would be putting it to work, powering the predatory functions of its twisted biology.
Karkus pulled her through the trees like a dog, maintaining enough tension on the leash to keep her on the edge of a run and yanking it whenever she slowed down. Sunlight began its slow invasion of the forest, enriching the colours and bringing the vegetation out of its brooding repose. In one place hundreds of ramsons speckled the forest floor like snowflakes, giving up a garlic redolence as they stomped through. In another place the trees were covered in red moss that shone with an inner light when viewed from the corner of her eye. Birds flapped, warbled and twittered and the breeze soughed gently through sun gilded foliage. It was a trail of wonders, but she was in no mood to appreciate them. Her grief and remorse was a powerful filter and it leeched colour from everything she looked at. To her the forest was nothing but a pencil drawing on damp paper - a drawing apt to tear open with the weight of its own pointlessness.
They had been going the better part of an hour when her interest was piqued by a strange aura, emanating from Karkus. She became increasingly beguiled, forgetting the chaffing rope around her neck and keeping pace with ease. She was reaching out to touch the aura when Karkus stopped to plan a route around some thorny bushes and she ran right into him. His reflexes were sharp and he shot a hand out, grabbing her by the hair and shocking her from her trance. ‘Keep your distance little witch,’ he said, eyes narrowing as if expecting her to perform some act of witchcraft. But when she continued to stare he set off again, pulling her along behind him.
His aura was no longer visible, but she understood now what she had seen. It was his soul - shining like a tantalising light around the edge of a secret door. But if this was an after effect of consuming the spirit last night, she hoped it would pass. The thought of spending the rest of her days craving the souls of everyone she met appalled her, and she put the notion out of her head by whispering her uncle’s rhyme over and over again:
Hear the wind soughing through the trees
Hear the rain pattering on the leaves
Hear the butterflies fluttering through the flowers
Birds and bees going round for hours
And when you return weary from the lanes
Sit with me and watch the flames
Over the next mile the forest changed slowly to jungle. The trees became taller and thicker and the trunks darker. Shade coalesced to gloom and soon only the occasional bar of sunlight reached the ground. The flowers were different in the jungle; alien species she suspected relied more on mist than sunlight. In another time or place the scenery might have delighted her; dozens of new flowers to sniff, press and draw – dozens of new flowers to which she could pin memories of old friends.
But she didn’t like these flowers.
They were more alive than was natural. And as they approach some turned on their stems, watching them like lecherous eyes. A patch of wood lilies took particular interest, turning to look with a collective twitch, white petals curling back like straining ears and long stamens flicking out like tongues. They were beautiful and horrifying at the same time and she was glad when Karkus took them on a sharp angle to avoid them.
It was midmorning when they came to a gorge of gargling and spitting water. Bridging the two sides was a huge tree bridge. Its roots were on the near back – a twisted system that looked like the frozen tentacles of a sea monster.
‘Rest the witch while me and Argol sort the tree,’ said Karkus. ‘And make sure you give her some bread and water.’ He handed the leash to Griglis and they trudged away to the gorge.
Della slumped down on a rock, exhausted. Her feet were blistered and raw and her entire right leg ached. It was free of poison now, but it was still weaker than her left one. Karkus had made little effort to accommodate her developing limp and she was sure he would have dragged her by the neck had she fallen down.
Griglis took a waterskin from his belt, handed it to her and sat down. She took several gulps; replacing fluid that was now a glistening sweat on her skin and damp patches on her clothes. He followed up with some bread and it wasn’t until her mouth started working on it that she realised how hungry she was. When her stomach craved more, she looked at him again. He had another piece ready in his hand, but he was watching her with an unblinking intensity that gave her a start. She took the bread and turned her attention to the torucks. They were positioned among the roots now, rolling the tree along the bank in a series of great heaves, and rocking it back and forth when it became stuck. She knew the torucks were strong, but the tree was enormous and it looked like an impossible feat.
From the corner of her eye she saw Griglis steal a look at the torucks; the way a thief checks a street in preparation for his crime. She met his gaze directly and saw a disturbing fever in his eyes. She got the feeling he was going to pounce, but he didn’t. Something was holding him back and when he looked o
ver at the torucks again, she realised it was them. Suddenly, insanely, she was glad they were there. Griglis was harbouring some malevolent intention towards her and his only deterrent was the giant who had cut her finger off. She swallowed the last of her bread and looked along their back trail, hoping to see her rescue party emerging from the trees.
‘A small company followed you from Irongate,’ he said, reading her mind. ‘We killed them whilst you slept… I hope you weren’t too close.’ She sensed a lie, but his words were like a punch to the stomach and he appeared satisfied with what he saw in her face.
Karkus called over soon after and she could tell he didn’t like the way they spoke to him. ‘Griglis! Get over here now and bring the witch.’ The torucks had rolled the tree half a revolution. Karkus was standing beside it and Argol was on top. Griglis rose with a scowl and led her to the gorge where Karkus lifted her onto the tree and climbed up. They waited for Griglis and when they were all gathered on top, Karkus picked Della up beneath a huge arm and hurried across.
They climbed down so quickly on the other side that Della had no time to register the puzzle there. What she had assumed would be a branching tree crown was in fact another root system, just like the one on the near side. And as soon as they disappeared into the jungle, the root systems on both sides began to flex and writhe like two versions of the sea monsters she had imagined. Under a baking sun they worked against the banks until the trunk was reset to its original position. Then they stiffened again - waiting for less wary visitors to chance a crossing.
You Almost Died Once
Kye leant against the fifth floor balcony, chin resting on folded arms as he looked over an endless forest. Ormis stood rigid and thoughtful beside him with only the tips of his fingers resting against the stone. Sun soaked the balcony but the exorcist seemed to accept it with no more pleasure than he did shade; as if he was unwilling, or perhaps unable to savour its warmth. The parapet was choked with shrivelled vines and wilted flowers, the white petals of which formed a thick litter beneath their feet. Far below, severed vines swayed gently in the breeze.
They arrived at the tower mid-morning and had conducted a full search, finding nothing but barrelled rations and a slurry of vomit Suula attributed to Della. After that, the little tracker had gone east with Rauul to determine Karkus’s route while the rest took rations.
Kye was worn out. After Ormis’s exorcism the soldiers treated their spider bites and they all stood watch until dawn. It was the longest night of his life and he spent it staring through the forest, trying not to think about what would have happened if Ormis hadn’t exorcised the spirit that bound the spiders. Of how they would have swarmed over each of them in turn, biting their exposed skin until they collapsed with a lethal dose of venom. The memory of Rauul’s bulging eyes as they crept over his face was something he would never forget. But now, as he rested on the warm coping stones with the sun washing over him, he could have fallen to sleep.
He caught a glimpse of movement in the forest beyond the outer wall and on closer observation saw it was Suula, making her way back to the gate.
‘She’s the best tracker in the Westland,’ said Ormis when he saw him watching her. ‘But she’s different, don’t you think? The way she moves, the way she holds herself, and the way she sniffs the air.’ Kye nodded as he followed her around the wall. ‘She was assigned to me during my first posting here. We were out tracking a quaggar raiding party one day when she disappeared. We searched for her all day and the next. But in the end we assumed she had fallen foul of the jungle… It’s not uncommon to lose trackers and soldiers like that. One minute they’re there, the next they’re gone – pulled underground or carried away by a silent predator.’ His manner was didactic, the delivery of a teacher talking to a pupil he has kept behind.
‘Six months later I was called to an incident in the little town of Western Ridge. There were reports of a girl living in the woods who nearly killed a farmer when he happened upon her butchering one of his sheep. We tracked her to a cave littered with bones and stinking of excrement. The girl was there, curled up in a corner, wild eyed and rabid. It was Suula, but she was so taken by the spirit that possessed her, she didn’t recognise me.
‘I freed her, but it was the most difficult exorcism I’ve ever performed. It took four hours to draw her possessor and she had to be tied down the whole time. The spirit was that of an Eastland beast – an entity we call a spirit demon. It was woven into her so deep it changed her, imprinting some of its attributes into her physical make up. And even after I pulled it out some of those changes remained. They will likely remain forever, so long did the spirit demon dwell within her. She was a good tracker before, but she’s exceptional now. She can smell a drop of blood a hundred yards away and hear a leaf fall from a tree on a quiet day. And don’t think I exaggerate. I have witnessed these feats on many occasions. Every three months the Elite Guard call on her to practice escape and evasion, but despite years of refining and developing their skills, no one can evade her a full day. Regardless of terrain and with a half day’s head start.’
Kye tried to imagine what kind of creature had possessed her and realised he had glimpsed it in her dark eyes. Not canine or feline exactly, but something in between.
‘Now she will track only for me. Perhaps I, in liberating her from the spirit demon have burdened her with a sense of debt. When she is not tracking for me or training the Elite Guard she resides in the asylum. They try to help, but most of the time she simply sits, eating food when it’s brought and staring into an invisible reality.’ He turned almost fully towards him. ‘Spirits are the enemy boy. They are the authors of misery and destruction and it’s important you come to understand this.’
Kye was listening thoughtfully and he stiffened at the allusion to Emilie. But Ormis didn’t pursue it any further. A silence fell between them and each basked in their own thoughts. When the exorcist spoke again he said something that made no sense to his tired mind.
‘You almost died once.’
It took Kye some time to find some meaning in the words and when he did, he was transported to the icy depths of Agelrish Lake where he almost lost his life.
‘Am I right?’
He nodded. ‘I nearly drowned trying to save Emilie. The man who fished me out told everyone he thought I was dead. Said he couldn’t believe it when I started coughing.’
‘You passed through the Membrane. But only partially. The man who rescued you must have pulled you back just in time.’ Kye was fully alert now, his eyes bright with anticipation. ‘And now you have both an affinity and sensitivity to it. It is the reason you sensed the spirit in Galleran Forest; the reason you saw the spiders beneath the mist and the reason you can see the girl in her Absent form.
‘Your brush with death has weakened the Membrane around you and you are now a window within it. You can see, hear and feel what others can’t – senses that will only strengthen with time. In the end the real world will not be enough for you and the call of the Membrane will become an obsession that could ruin your life… You aren’t the only one with such sensitivities. There are others like you. As a group you are more likely to be victims of possession, to become spirit lures or join the ranks of the Caliste. Izle Rohn is one such person and so is the High Exorcist, Lord Riole.’
At first Kye felt the need to deny his new senses. Della had warned him of Ormis’s suspicions and alluded to possible consequences. But the truth was, he craved insight into his new nature and as the words rolled off the exorcist’s tongue he was rendered spellbound.
‘You’re lucky I found you when I did - before the people of Agelrish realised what you are. And you are luckier still that you were born in these times. Not too long ago you would have suffered greatly in the dungeons of the Caliste for what you have become.’
There wasn’t a line on Kye’s face and when the exorcist paused he swallowed a lump in his throat. ‘What will happen to me?’
‘You’ll never see Agelrish ag
ain… When this is over you’ll be relocated in the north, in a town populated by others like you. It’s a good place. It has the look and feel of an ordinary town, but with one crucial difference. It has a resident exorcist whose sole purpose is to keep the town free of Membrane activity. If he does his job and you follow the rules, you’ll live a normal life, uncomplicated by your new sensitivities.’
If not for his loveless upbringing he would have considered the prospect of never seeing his family again with watery dread. But he considered it with dispassion now. He thought about his deeper hearing and wondered if he would miss it. The distant voices he sometimes heard were soothing and he often used them to fall to sleep.
‘What about Della?’ he asked. ‘If we ever get her back?’
‘We are obliged to take some study of her. Absence is entirely new to us – a talent we must understand. But we have no intention of causing her pain and suffering. Contrary to the prevailing belief, we are no longer the callus torturers of the old days. We will question your friend and when we are satisfied, she’ll join you in the north.’
Kye was considering this when Suula appeared behind his right shoulder, so unexpectedly it made him jump. ‘They went east at first light and they went in a hurry. The girl’s on foot and her gait is erratic. It’s likely they’re pulling her on a leash.’
Absence_Mist and Shadow Page 5
