Shadowprey: A Black Foxes Adventure

by Dennis L McKiernan

  A moment later, Grace Willoby shouted, “Eric is crashing!”

  “Idiot Arik!” snarled Stein. “Stepping near a ghost as he did.” The doctor looked at Drew. “Clever, you say? What a fool, say I.”

  Greyson, tears running down his face, called out, “Henry, he’s trying to save his truelove.” And as Stein and Alvin rushed to Eric’s witches’ cradle, Greyson added, “Damn Avery! Damn him! He knew Arik couldn’t resist.”

  “But why did he fall down?” asked Alya Ramanni.

  “He stepped within a charmed circle of some kind,” replied Toni. “See the dark line on the floor?”

  “Alice’s temp is rising,” called Grace.

  “Of course,” snapped Stein, now working on Eric. “What Avery is taking from him, he is giving to her.”

  Then, even though she knew she could not be heard by those in VR, Toni called out to the holo, “No, Ky. No. Don’t kill Lyssa.”

  Of a sudden, Trendel shed his weaponry and stepped across the line and dragged Arik free.

  As Stein and Grace and Alvin continued to work on Eric, and then on Timothy, and finally on Hiroko, Toni and the others watched and listened to Trendel and Ky and Arik in the theatrical central holo, and read the subtitles whenever Lyssa spoke.

  “You know, this could use some background music,” said Billy.

  Sheila, the other comptech shook her head. “No, Billy, no. It’s tense enough as it is. Me, if there were a musical score underlying what we see and hear, I think I’d pass out from anxiety.”

  Toni nodded in silent agreement with Sheila.

  “Oh, Vishnu,” said Alya, “she’s trapped. Lyssa is trapped. Bound by circle and stone.”

  “I can’t wait to see how they get past this one,” said Drew.

  “Drew,” snarled Greyson, his voice high-pitched and tight, the man stressed to the point of breaking, “this is not a show for our entertainment. It’s life and death in there. Life and death. Damn Avery. Damn Avery. Damn him to hell!”

  “That’s not very monklike, John,” said Stein, a sneer in his voice. “—Cursing, I mean.”

  “Oh, my god,” exclaimed Sheila. “Ky! What’s she going to—?”

  In the holo, Ky embraced Lyssa and vanished, then reappeared outside the circle, yet holding onto the ghost.

  As Ky crumpled and Lyssa fled away, at her medtech console, Alice shouted, “Shit, shit, shit! Hiroko Kikiro is dying!”

  22

  Itheria

  (Black Foxes)

  “Oh, Arda, Arda,” prayed Arik, kneeling beside Ky, “don’t let her die. Please don’t let her die.”

  Trendel sucked in air through clenched teeth. “Die?”

  “Her pulse is nearly gone,” said Arik, scooping up the syldari. “We need Kane.”

  “But he’s unconscious, in a coma,” said Trendel. “How can he help?”

  “I don’t know,” replied Arik, “but he’s our only hope.”

  High above, in what was formerly shadows but now blazed with Lyssa’s ethereal light, horrified at what she had done, Lyssa wept, her ghostly tears streaming down like droplets of light. And even as Arik started for the door, Lyssa flew down to stand between him and the outlet. And she pushed her hands palms out to stop him. she gestured, yet sobbing, her sound but a ghostly wail.

  “What? How? She has no life force left.”

 

  Arik stood frozen with indecision.

  “Do as she says,” urged Trendel, “for Kane cannot help.”

  Arik knelt and gently placed Ky to the floor. Then he and Trendel backed off.

  Lyssa soared up to hover high over Ky’s still form, and, wailing in sorrow, her tears fell down, the globules of light falling and falling to splash upon and then sink into the still form of Ky. And Lyssa’s light, bright enough to illuminate the entire ghastly barrow, slowly began to diminish.

  Long moments passed, and moments more, and then Ky coughed and took in a shuddering breath. She groaned and opened her eyes and saw Lyssa floating above. Then the syldari turned her head to see Trendel and Arik nearby and the altar beyond them. “It worked,” Ky whispered and then fell asleep.

  High above, Lyssa now wept in relief, in joy, and more tears fell down and down.

  23

  Courthouse

  (Adkins)

  “Your honor,” said Mark Perry, getting to his feet, “in Ms. Adkin’s hypothetical case—where she posits Mr. Coburn, supported by machines, has lost everything but his mentality, and where she claims that he is still a person, is still a human—what she forgot to mention is that Finster William Coburn is very much alive, while Arthur David Coburn’s mutilated corpse is buried in Everhaven.”

  Melissa French, who had been half-sitting on the forward edge of her table, stood erect and said, “Nevertheless, if Finster were supported in a manner such as Toni has outlined, with his mentality uploaded to a machine even as the rest of him withered away or perished of disease or by calamity, then it is our contention that he would still be a human. After all, did not René Descartes say, ‘Cogito, ergo sum’? I think, therefore I am.”

  Judge Marshall raised an index finger and said, “Actually, René’s words were, ‘Je pense, donc je suis,’ which translates to ‘I think, therefore I am.’ It was only later that someone thought to transcribe his words into classical Latin.”

  “Thank you, your honor, for that clarification,” said Melissa, smiling. Then her face took on a more serious expression and she said, “Regardless, the facts remain the same.”

  “Facts? What facts?” objected Mark Perry. “All Ms. Adkins has put forth are hypotheticals, not facts.”

  Judge Marshall looked at Melissa, and she said, “We contend that Arthur Coburn’s mentality was indeed uploaded by Avery, and although Arthur’s body was destroyed, Arthur himself was not. Therefore, as to Arthur: He thinks, therefore he is.”

  Severely dressed in gray homespun, a black-haired woman in the audience leapt to her feet and yelled, “Blasphemy! Blasphemy! God did not intend for humanity to be uploaded or cloned or—”

  The courtroom erupted in chaos, as several dark-suited, bearded men and gray-clad women leapt to their feet and chanted and held up a long and heretofore concealed cloth banner, one that declared themselves to be members of God’s Temple, and Avery to be the antichrist incarnate.

  Judge Marshall hammered for order, and gestured for the bailiffs to remove these disrupters.

  Toni sat quite still, waiting for calm to return, even as the somehow-familiar-looking, black-haired woman of God’s Temple shouted, “The End Days are upon us, for Toni Adkins is surely Jezebel returned! The Whore of Babylon!”

  Whore of Babylon. Whore of Babylon, chanted her following, as the bailiffs escorted them from the courtroom. They continued shouting as down the hall and then the stairs they went, their words fading in the distance.

  Outside the courthouse, and yet standing under her umbrella in the heavy downpour, Frankie Roberts snapped her fingers and smiled. She put away her handheld, and signaled for Steve to record their expulsion from the breezeway and into the storm. And when Steve panned from them back to her, Frankie looked into the tri-lens and said, “We’ve just heard what First Prophet Sarah Bitters, of the break-away sect of God’s Temple, has to say about Toni Adkins. Let us see what the audience thinks. Are the End Days upon us? Is Toni Adkins truly Jezebel returned? Is she the Whore of Babylon and a tool of Avery, the antichrist? Or is she instead an enlightened scientist, blazing a trail for others to follow through a tangle of prejudice, ignorance, and folly? Send your responses to FrankieR at Holo4 dot holo. We’ll see what you believe.

  “This is Frankie Roberts, News Holo-4, at the Pima County courthouse in Tucson, Arizona.”

  24

  Itheria

  (Black Foxes)

  Lyssa finally moved away from above Ky’s form, and Arik scooped up the syldari and looked toward Lyssa high overhead. “Thank you, my love
.”

  Lyssa signaled.

  “Not if we take the same precautions as those we practiced in the past,” said Arik.

  Trendel fetched Ky’s shield and sword and the found bandolier of daggers from the far side of the altar. Of a sudden he looked up and then about. “I just realized: this place”—he gestured all ’round—“is just like a great black stone temple underground, or rather, under mound. It has an altar and a dome overhead and an entry and such. Perhaps they built the hill over it.”

  “I wouldn’t call it a ‘great’ temple,” said Arik, turning to see as Trendel made his way to Arik’s side. “But a temple, yes.”

  Then Arik called up to Lyssa, “It is yet day outside, but night will come soon. Our camp is east some three hundred paces. Come when you can.” Arik started for the exit.

  “We’ll leave the door open,” said Trendel. “—Oh, and avoid the dark circle; we would not like you to be trapped in it again.”

  Then Trendel followed Arik out.

  As they came into the campsite, Rith leapt to her feet, alarm on her face. “What happened? Is Ky—?”

  “She’s asleep,” said Arik, gently laying her down.

  “Yes, but—”

  “She did a foolish thing, love,” said Trendel, “heroic, but foolish, and it nearly cost Ky her life.”

  “Well are you going to tell me, or are you just going to stand there mute?”

  Trendel looked at Kane and asked, “First, how is he?”

  “No change.”

  Trendel sighed and said, “We found Lyssa nearly dead on an— Oh, goodness. Nearly dead. Somehow that doesn’t seem right to say that of a ghost. —Anyway, she was lying on an altar, and her ethereal light was very faint. Arik stepped across a charmed circle and . . .”

  “Ky, you were an idiot!” shouted Rith, the syldari now awake.

  The sun had just set, and the onset of dusk began filling the Kalagar Wood. Overhead, in the yet light sky, Phemis went racing past waxing Orbis, both moons pale in the not-yet-dark above.

  Ky sighed and said, “But Lyssa was trapped. How else were we going to get her out?”

  “I told you that Rith might be able to break the ring with sound,” said Trendel. “We should have tried that.”

  “Perhaps,” said Ky. “But we didn’t know what might happen were the circle to be damaged. I think we were foolish in the first place to try to break it, you with your axe, Arik with his sword, and me with my shadowblade. I mean, the entire barrow might have come crashing down.”

  Arik nodded. “There is that.”

  “And so I did what I thought was best,” said Ky, casting about in the flickering firelight as if searching for something. “Arda, but what I wouldn’t give for a good cup of tea.”

  “Tea?” Trendel snapped his fingers and jumped up. “I know just where we might get some.” He took up a burning brand to use as a torch.

  “Where?” asked Rith.

  “In the barrow. The same place Ky got you those spare throwing knives. —Besides, we could use some blankets and other gear, and there’s plenty inside. I mean, all of our goods—horses and kit—are back on the demonplane, if it yet exists. We need virtually everything, and the barrow is full of equipment.”

  “Is it even usable?” asked Rith. “I mean, it’s been down there awhile—ever since the Kalagar Gate was made.”

  “I don’t know,” said Trendel. “But the place was sealed up tight.”

  Arik said, “Were Kane awake, he might say that putrefying corpses would ruin everything. Perhaps there is nothing useful left.”

  “We can only see,” said Trendel.

  “I’ll go with you,” said Rith, getting to her feet and lighting another dead branch.

  Arik sighed, but stood as well. “I want to check on Lyssa, and, as much as I hate grave robbing, there are things we need, if they haven’t gone to rot.” He looked at Ky. “Will you be all right?”

  Ky nodded and said, “I’ll watch over Kane.”

  As the trio started out for the barrow, “Damn the Dark God,” swore Arik.

  “For putting Lyssa in a trap?” asked Trendel.

  “For everything,” said Arik.

  “How so?”

  “We thought Horax was responsible for doing whatever was done to Lyssa to turn her into a ghost, but now I think it was the Dark God instead. I mean, after all, when Horax strutted before us in the DemonQueen’s palace, he didn’t crow over Lyssa’s demise.”

  “I remember,” said Rith. “Still, we are left with the two indications Trendel got when he sought to find Lyssa.”

  “Body and soul, thinks Ky,” said Trendel. “Perhaps a good guess.”

  “But we don’t know whether one is really her body,” said Arik, “though with your last casting, the one indicating the mound, you did find her spirit.”

  “I’ll have to do another casting for her body,” said Trendel, “after you’ve described her to me.”

  “What good will that do?” asked Rith. “I mean, even if it is her body, what do we do then?”

  “I don’t know,” said Trendel. He glanced at Arik. “How about we decide after the casting?”

  Arik nodded. They trudged onward, and after a moment, Arik said, “He’s playing with us, toying with us as a cat would worry a mouse.”

  Rith frowned. “Who? Horax? —Oh, you mean the Dark God.”

  “Yes,” said Arik, “the Dark God. First He turns Lyssa into a specter. Then, when Trendel defeated Him on the demonplane, He nearly killed us by destroying the DemonQueen’s palace. When we survived that, He cast us out among hundreds of wraiths, and we nearly died, but you saved us, Rith. Then we had to find Lyssa before her spirit perished. When we did, we discovered He had trapped her in a mound and sealed her in magical stone and within a dark ring. We had to find the door and discover a way to open it. And the ring made it dangerous even to revive her, but Trendel found a way to defeat that. Then we had to discover a way to set Lyssa free, and that nearly killed Ky; it was Lyssa herself that kept that from happening. And Kane is lying in a coma. And for all we know, the Dark God is responsible for Arton’s death, too. I mean, that-that thing that tore him in two, it came out of nowhere. Mayhap it was summoned by the Dark God. —Krone’s teeth, what’s He going to do to us next?”

  “Do you think we pissed him off?” asked Trendel.

  Rith looked at the seer, then burst out in laughter.

  The eve had darkened, and when ethereal Lyssa came floating toward them, she found all three guffawing.

  As soon as Trendel saw her, he pointed and howled all the harder.

  She stopped at a safe distance. she asked.

  It took a few moments before Arik sobered enough to explain.

  Lyssa looked at him and turned up her hands.

  They broke into laughter again, and Rith said, “Oh, Lyss, you just had to be there.”

  Finally, they got control of themselves, and continued on toward the barrow.

 

  “Grave robbing,” said Arik. “There are things in there we need—backpacks, blankets, flint and steel, rope, and the like. Tea, if we can find any. A bit of coin, too, for as soon as we can, we’ll need to buy horses.”

  “Ky got me some spare throwing knives,” said Rith, “but they are steel. Perhaps there are some silver ones within.”

  signed Lyssa.

  Lyssa took the lead, floating far enough ahead to keep from taking any more energy from Arik or Trendel, and none at all from Rith, who had not been in the barrow mound when the others had found Lyssa. And as her ghostly form drifted toward the barrow, Rith began telling he
r of their escape and the destruction of the demonplane. But in the midst of the telling, Trendel, who had been thinking over what Arik had said, suddenly asked, “Wait a moment; if Lyssa is a spirit, then where is Arton?”

  Rith frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, when Lyssa was perhaps killed by Horax or the Dark God or even someone else—”

  Arik held up a hand, interrupting Trendel. “Given your two readings—one for Lyssa’s spirit and maybe the other for her body—it just occurred to me that perhaps something was done to separate the one from the other, and mayhap that’s why you got the second indication.”

  Lyssa turned, aghast.

  “I doubt it,” said Arik. “It’s just idle speculation on my part. We’ll know more when Trendel tries again.” Arik turned to the seer. “You were saying about Arton . . .”

  Trendel said, “Just hear me out: if indeed Lyssa was slain and became a spirit, then Arton’s spirit must be somewhere, too. I mean, if Lyssa’s shade rejoined the Foxes after her death, then why did not Arton’s wraith rejoin you as well?”

  Arik shrugged and started forward, Lyssa turning and floating ahead, Trendel’s question hanging on the air. Finally, Rith said, “Perhaps his spirit has moved on, just as did those of the mound when I broke the arch—destroyed their focus, the thing keeping them here.”

  “Maybe,” said Trendel. “But I was just wondering.”

  “Perhaps you’ll have to do a finding on him,” said Rith.

  “I never met him,” said Trendel. “He was killed ere I became a Black Fox. Hence, to find his spirit, I would have to have a good description.”

  “We can do that,” said Rith.

  “But first I would have you see if you can locate Lyssa,” said Arik. “—Her body, I mean.”

  “All right,” said Trendel.

  Lyssa signaled for Rith to continue telling her what happened after the battle on the demonplane. And so, Rith carried on, and then Trendel took up the tale concerning the events at and within the barrow itself. Just as he got to the part where Lyssa regained consciousness, that was the moment the four of them reached the entry to the barrow, and Lyssa glided inward, the trio following.