Soul Sanctuary: Book Two Of The Spirit Shield Saga

by Susan Faw

  Mordecai smiled and took another sip of tea. “Oh, a little bit of this and a bit of that. There is a lot to learn when you are one of the only remaining wizards in the world. There is a lot to record, a lot of information to preserve. Time does not exist in a vacuum. There must be ebb and flow for time to exist. As long as there are mortals, there is time. Time to learn what must be learned; do what must be done, undo what has been done, and take a stab at sorting out the future of time-marking mortals. Enough to keep me busy for another lifetime, I suspect.” He drained his cup and set it down on his saucer.

  “But I have found that when truly evil times exist, the fates provide for what is needed. It is never one man’s victory or courage that wins a war. It is a hundred or a thousand small acts of bravery that carry the battle. No man is an island and their souls combined are stronger than any one foe. The ant surely knows this. Nature is a simple teacher of the complexities of life.”

  “You waffle, Mordecai. As always, you fill your mouth with useless words that buzz in the ear but say nothing.” Helga reached into her pocket and withdrew two objects, placing them in the middle of the table. “I assume you know what these are?”

  One was Mordecai’s focus stone, his crystal. The second was the smooth river rock.

  “A second direct question. Of course, I do. One is my favorite crystal, and the second is a stone I took a fancy to. I do love odd rocks. I have a whole collection back at the library.”

  “Liar.” Helga picked up the crystal, and it glowed, heating rapidly. She dropped it before it could burn and the red blush vanished, returning to a nondescript crystal once again. “This crystal is a Soul Stone, a focus rock, commonly used by wizards to focus their own will. If I can make it glow, one wonders what it will do for you.” She reached out and placed it in front of him. “I have no use for it, so I return it to you.”

  Surprised, Mordecai picked it up and put it back in his pocket. As he assumed he was not just a guest of Helga’s, she could take it back at any time, so he did not challenge her on her choice of words.

  “What I don’t know is why you have this rock.” Her finger stirred the grey stone.

  Mordecai shrugged. “Occasionally, I pick up interesting stones to test. As I said, I thought it was an interesting rock.”

  Helga squinted at him, clearly not believing a word of what he said. “So, you would not care if I tossed it away, say, into my lava flow? It could be destroyed with no more interest than any other rock?” She slipped it back into her pocket, out of sight.

  Mordecai reached out involuntarily before retracting his arm. “I would prefer to have the stone. They are difficult to find,” he muttered weakly. Helga grinned back at him.

  “So, it is more than a simple rock. Of course it is. I will keep it for now, for safekeeping, but should I decide that your answers and cooperation are less than stellar, we will see what happens with the rock.

  “Now, there are these two precious bundles.” She reached into her other pocket and withdrew the straw dolls. “Soul Fetches unless I mistake my eyes. One would appear to be yours. And the other…well, I can only guess. Perhaps you will enlighten me?”

  Mordecai swallowed heavily. He’d feared that they were in her possession. His mind frantically searched for an answer, for a response that would waylay her suspicions. He settled on the fact that she could not know he knew who the doll was for.

  “Alas, I cannot help you there, Helga. Alcina had just captured me with the doll, as you no doubt saw if you took me from the floor of her tent. I assume the other was taken from her tent? I have no idea who that doll binds.” He kept his face still, eyes locked on his own doll.

  Helga frowned at him, then twitched Mordecai’s doll. “If you are lying, I will know it. You are going to be very useful to me going forward, Mordecai. Why, I might even grant you immortality if you please me well enough. You are now my soul slave, and you will do as I command or I will break you. One…bone…at…a…time…” She snapped a thread on the hand of the doll. Mordecai howled as his pinky finger on his left hand snapped. Pain shot up his arm. Tears sprang to his eyes, as he cradled the swelling digit. “Mine to command.” She smiled, pleasure and promise in the threat.

  “Genii!” Helga snapped.

  Genii stepped from the shadows, or rather the shadows pushed him forward until he stood solid in the indirect lighting.

  “Take our guest to the scrying pool. I want him to provide intelligence reports. He can begin to repay his lodging debt in this fashion. You will report back to me anything of significance he sees. Take this, and be sure he does not touch it.” She handed the doll to him once more.

  “Yes, mistress.” Genii bowed, tucking Mordecai’s doll into his robes, then grabbed Mordecai by the arm and dragged him from the room.

  Chapter 41

  The Task at Hand

  AVERY SHOOK ACHAK, waking him. With that consciousness, he cried out, gasping as the pain of his broken leg overtook him. Avery tipped a cup of water, into which she had crumbled some powdered white willow bark, to his lips, as she murmured, “Drink this. Shh.” He drank it down, some slopping down his chin at the angle. As she lowered the cup, his eyes darted anxiously around the cave. “They are gone,” she said, lowering his head back down to the bench. “The phoenix did the trick. That is some Spirit Guardian!”

  Achak groaned as he attempted to move his leg.

  “I’m sorry,” said Avery, grimacing. “I can’t heal it within the cave. There is some shield that keeps my power from flowing here. I must move you outside to heal you. The guards should be gone now. Marea was here—Hey, lay still! It’s OK,” she said, restraining him as he tried to sit up. “She went to distract the guards away from the entrance. But first, I want to look over the other objects in the cave here. What can you tell me about these objects, Achak?”

  Achak’s eyes wandered the cave. “I am no elder, Mother. Elder Hania is who you want to speak to. The objects in this cave are rumoured to be usable only by godlings. They were created with the power and magic of the gods. But they are dangerous objects and so have been ever in this cave under magical protection. It is said in the ancient prophesies that these objects were placed here against man’s most desperate hour. When war covered the earth, these gifts of the gods would hold the key to the salvation and preservation of the world.” He peered around at the various alcoves and shivered. “I do not like being this close to the gods, even if they are no longer present.”

  “I do not believe these objects are of the gods, but only one god, my father, Morpheus.” Avery wandered around the cave once again, peering into each alcove. “Yet I do not know what they do. To remove them would be to risk them falling into hands that should not have them. But to leave them is also to risk them being taken by those who should not have them. Which is the greater evil, do you think? Can we protect them if we take them?”

  Achak’s forehead wrinkled with thought. “There is only one place I can suggest that would be safe for these objects where we know no one else could access them—the temple. We should take them to the temple.”

  Avery swung back to Achak and smiled. “Yes! That is a fantastic idea! There is a room in there, and that is the safest place on Earth. That is what we will do.”

  Avery walked back over and sat down beside Achak. She pulled the box out of her pocket and sat it on her lap. It was as black as midnight, and all light appeared to be sucked into its depths.

  “Tell me, can you hear anything?”

  Achak frowned at her. “What do you mean? I do not hear anything. You mean from the box?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a box. What is it supposed to do? Play music?”

  Avery shook her head. “No, it’s…whispering to me. I can hear voices, but I can’t make out what they are saying. It’s very strange.” She frowned at the box and went to put a finger on it but then changed her mind. She was loath to touch it. “I know this box. I have seen it before, but it was in the possession of a wiza
rd last time I saw it. A young boy.” Her eyes glazed as she pulled up the memory. Although it was the most recent of her past life, it was still a different existence and she found it difficult to reconcile. “I died the last time I saw this box. It is a god-killer.”

  “A what!” Achak struggled to sit upright, and his hand went to snatch the box away, but she grabbed his wrist, halting him.

  “It was necessary,” she whispered, her eyes still glazed in memory, “to stop a great evil. But we died that day. We must return this to the wizard. He will know how to use it. But I don’t know where he is. Mordecai should be with Cayden, but I do not know where Cayden is. We are able to talk to each other telepathically, though. Let me see if I can reach him.”

  She closed her eyes and reached out to her brother. Cayden, can you hear me? Where are you? I need you to come to me. She sent the thought to him, praying it would find its way to him. The answer came back faster than she expected.

  Avery! Where are you? I am coming to you! I have so much to tell you! Tell me where you are.

  I am in a cave near…well, you will recognize it if your memory has returned, Cayden. It’s at the end of a highland meadow, above Daimon Ford. Do you think you could find me if I described it to you?

  I can find you easily. I can fly once again! Excitement tickled Cayden’s voice in her head. Give me an image of where you are, Avery.

  You can fly? Wait, how can you fly? What do you mean? Avery sent over the image of the caves and the meadow with the tall stones and waited for his exclamation of horror when he saw it, but it never came.

  Cayden replied, I’d rather show you!

  Avery had the impression that he was chuckling with amusement, like a kid with a new toy. Fine, come show me, she sent back.

  You are in the sacred meadow with the monolithic stones, the place where we died. Yes, my memory has returned.

  Avery shivered. Yes, the place with the stones, she sent back to him.

  We are on our way, he sent back.

  Is Mordecai with you?

  No, but he should be along shortly. He had a…task…to complete.

  I need to find him right away, Avery sent back to Cayden.

  I think I can locate him.

  All right, but hurry! A vague sense of acknowledgment reached her and then the link was broken.

  Her eyes opened wide, slightly out of focus. “He is coming.”

  “Who?” said Achak.

  “My brother.”

  “The new king of Cathair?” His eyes widened in surprise.

  “He was my brother long before he was the king,” she said ruefully, “but yes, one and the same.”

  Achak struggled to the edge of the platform and slid his wrapped leg out over the side, using both hands to ease it down to touch the floor.

  “Help me up! I need you to heal my leg so we can begin packing up these items.”

  Avery slung an arm around his waist and he grabbed her shoulders for support and then stood. Achak’s teeth clenched in pain, but he said nothing. He hobbled to the cave mouth then out into the passage. It was slow going as darkness was descending and little light filtered down to the base of the narrows.

  As they came to the mouth of the passage, they slowed, and Avery crept forward alone to check that the way was clear. The clearing appeared quiet and peaceful, the sinking sun casting long shadows across the meadow. The ancient grey stones, missed on her trip into the cave due to being unconscious, now grabbed her attention. She could not suppress a shiver of fear that ran up her back at the sight of them. Tall and unmoving, they cared not for the scratching of the mortals that stirred the grasses beneath the stones, neither slug nor bear nor human. They grimly stood at attention, waiting patiently for the next chapter, the next page in the annals of mankind. Long fingers of shadow stretched from the bases, pointing toward them as the sun sank into the west.

  Nervous of being exposed in the open, Avery dragged Achak into the closest copse of trees. Once far enough away from the cave and the rocks to feel relatively safe, she set him down on the forest floor.

  “This is a serious break. I do not know if I can fully heal this right here, but I can get the process started.” She laid her hands on the leg and closed her eyes once again, feeling her way along the leg. The break was severe, the bone splintered internally. Fractures spiralled within the bone. She drew on her will and the runes on her skin began to glow, pulling on the healing power of the temple. She moved her hands along the leg, her fingers twitching to pull at the sections of bone and align them. Sweat broke out on her forehead and began to run down the sides of her face. With a gasp, she opened her eyes, panting in exertion. The healing had caused Achak to faint, as it drew on his strength to cement the healing.

  Avery manipulated the bones, and while it was not completely set, at least it was aligned. Rest would heal it the rest of the way; but the debilitating portion of the break had been fixed. It was all she could manage for the moment. Exhausted, she flopped onto the ground beside him.

  The box vibrated in her pocket.

  She lifted her head and stared at the stones. In the center of the ring, a light glowed. The light called to her, called to the box. A distant rumble echoed across the valley like great stones grinding together. The valley shook and lava burst from the mountaintop, small flaming pinpricks flashing into the clearing and then winking out.

  Time is short. I must begin the healing of the land and its peoples before Helga breaks free, if that is what she is trying to do. But do I wait for Cayden? Do I dare wait for him? I cannot fail. This time the healing must be complete. Artio designed this circle to be a healing focus, and not just for physical injuries. The circle is linked to the temple and draws its power from the temple, and the celestial elements.

  Avery read every level of rune carved into the great stones. As the last rays of the sun fell below the horizon, the top level of runes began to glow softly. The light of a full moon on the rise waxed as the sun waned. It was time.

  Chapter 42

  Anarchy

  THE CAMP WAS A FROTHING SEA OF CONFUSION. The legionnaires woke in the morning to a numbing sense of having been asleep for many days and weeks, if not months. They rolled out of tents and began to wander around the main camp, not recognizing anyone. Strangers surrounded them, men who a few days ago they would have greeted as comrades.

  One young officer entered the tent of the queen to find her and her lover dead in their blankets. They had been slain in the night, and whatever enchantment had lain over the men evaporated with their deaths and the rising of the morning sun. No one knew who she was or why they were there or who was supposed to be in charge. Their ranks meant nothing to them and the biggest and the strongest began to assert themselves, pushing and shoving at the weaker, taking whatever they wished and filling their pockets with supplies and loot.

  Shouts could be heard and fights broke out over what belonged to whom. No one could remember, so each man grabbed what he wanted and tried to keep it from others. Before noon, several men had been left to die on the hard-packed dirt, each with a blade in his gut.

  The men slunk into groups for protection. By midafternoon, those who were able to fight their way to a horse had left in mobs of ten or twenty, headed back toward Cathair. Roving bands of angry legionnaires on foot left the camp shortly thereafter, and by sunset the main legion camp was completely abandoned and empty except for the dead.

  By nightfall, they had made their way to the plains with only one goal in mind: to return to Cathair and the homes they remembered to be there.

  The only problem with this is that the homes they remembered were twenty years in the past, if they were not a recent addition by way of Alcina’s recruiting parties.

  Like a wildfire, they swept onto the steppe, crazed with flashes of memory, like a badly performed play of a past life they barely remembered. Wives and children and homes, fields and crops left behind. Disoriented by their incongruous thoughts, they marched for an unsuspecting Catha
ir, a plague of traumatized, battle-weary soldiers returning to homes that no longer existed, to families that had grown, to wives that had moved on to new husbands and lovers.

  Lightning had struck suddenly and swiftly, in the form of Helga, and flames of trauma and revenge and need licked the heels of the deranged as they charged toward…home.

  ***

  Artio sat her horse and watched the bands of roving ex-legionnaires descend onto the grasslands and set off toward Cathair. She held her hand up to prevent the Flesh Clan warriors from loosening arrows on the unsuspecting men.

  “Let them go,” she growled. Hototo cancelled the order to release arrows, and the men relaxed their draw on their long bows.

  “As you wish, mistress. What is your command? I could send a team of assassins to wipe them out. They would not even know we were there.” He bobbed his head as her eyes fixed on him, and his fingers throbbed in remembered pain.

  “They run like children seeking their mother’s pap. They are nothing, a mere distraction, which was no doubt my dear sister’s intent. Ever she liked to sow anarchy. They are my dear brother’s problem now.” She twitched in her saddle, eyes dismissing the legionnaires, great head swinging back around to the forest into which her brother had fled. “Cayden, however, is here and headed straight into Helga’s loving embrace. I am sure she has set a trap for him, a lure of some sort,” she mused aloud.

  Hototo, surprised that she would speak to him directly of her thoughts, bowed his head in acknowledgement but remained silent. He did not think she meant him to hear or cared about his opinion.

  By holding my tongue, I might just keep it, he thought.

  Artio checked the height of the sun in the sky and then swung her head back toward the mountainside. With a vexed snort, she brutally yanked her horse back to the trail and to the climb, past boulders and along thin ledges to the clearing she knew all too well, shrouded in low-lying clouds. Which path should I choose? She checked the height of the sun in the sky once again and cursed, tightening her hands on her reins. She did not have enough time to chase after Cayden and be at the clearing by nightfall. He had a head start, riding that cursed Pegasus and it would easily outrun her four-legged mount. Artio lifted her arm and stared at her hand. It was a curious thing how her body was reverting to her original appearance. A blessing of the approaching solstice, no doubt. She snarled. Time was of the essence. She needed the Primordial warriors and could not leave them behind.