Book of Sacha: Dark Fate (The Dark Fate Chronicles 3)

by Matt Howerter

  Hours later, Sacha staggered into the villa with her mind on fire. During the course of her lessons these past months, she had endured mind-numbing lectures on philosophy and theory. Her body had been battered and twisted and her mind pushed beyond exhaustion, but never before had she felt as shredded as she did today.

  Rouke stood from the table he shared with Kahl, concern painted clearly across his face. “Princess?”

  She ignored his question and stumbled across the great room to the long table. Piles of neatly arranged meat, cheese, and bread had been picked through by the men as they maneuvered the pieces of their chessboard. A silver decanter stood on a tall, round table to one side.

  She clutched at the handle eagerly. Her fingers spasmed into a fist, punching the tall container instead. The decanter launched into the air, sloshing amber liquid everywhere as it crashed to the floor.

  Sacha swore as she bumped into the table, upsetting the pieces.

  Rouke moved swiftly, reaching to steady her with hands on her waist and shoulders. “Princess!”

  Sacha mumbled at him. She had wanted to say, “I’m fine,” but her mouth didn’t seem to be correctly connected to her brain at the moment. She had managed to say her goodbyes to Teacher well enough...hadn’t she? The walk from the pavilion was a bit fuzzy.

  “You better have a seat, Princess,” Rouke said, guiding her to the chair he had vacated.

  “Thank you,” Sacha managed. She fell into the chair and reached for his mug. Her trembling fingers didn’t betray her this time, and she gripped the cup firmly. The liquid vibrated as she brought it to her parched lips and drank greedily, ignoring the drips that leaked down her chin. Kahl offered a small plate with a portion of the bread, meat, and cheese, but she pushed it away, instead reaching for his unfinished mug. She finished off Kahl’s in short order. “Another,” she breathed, thunking the empty container onto the table.

  Kahl hurried off to fulfil her command, while Rouke’s questioning eyes scanned her with concern. “So, did you find out what you wanted?”

  Sacha tried to swallow, but her throat was raw. Had she been screaming? Teacher’s dazed visage flashed past her mind’s eye, but his words of caution lingered. “When you open the door to another’s mind, you are willfully trespassing into that person’s most private, most intimate space. To do so requires a fundamental willingness to disregard their right of freedom, thus regarding your subject as less than yourself. This is the most fundamental hazard and the greatest reason mages are forbidden to use it. In a real way, you are trading your humanity for power. To use this skill too much or too often is a path to insanity and tyranny of the worst sort.”

  Rouke leaned closer. “Princess?”

  “Yes,” Sacha croaked. “Yes, I found what I wanted. And more.”

  Kahl returned with two more pitchers. “Do you need a physician, Princess?” he asked as he poured her another mug of ale.

  “No,” she said, reaching for the flagon. “I’m fine.” She drained it as quickly as she had the first two and slammed the cup down on the table. “Another.”

  Rouke frowned. “You’ll get yourself right tilted if you continue in that fashion.”

  “That’s the point, loyal armsman,” Sacha replied wryly. The alcohol was already calming some of the inferno of her mind, stroking her jangled nerves with the soft fingers of inebriation.

  The soldier raised his scarred brow. “Well, all right then.” He pulled up a chair across from Sacha and grinned. “Kahl, would you be so kind as to give us a few moments?”

  The dark man bowed before making off. “I will be near if you should need me.”

  “So,” Rouke began after Kahl disappeared around a corner that led to the kitchens. “What exactly happened out there?” He refilled her cup and then one of his own.

  Sacha gulped down half of her mug this time and set it down, relishing the reduction of the hammering in her head from an ogre’s pounding to a more polite knocking. Teacher’s warnings, however, continued to repeat unabated at the forefront of her thoughts. “The mind is the core of a person’s being and the house of their soul,” he had said. “It is the place in which each person is their most powerful. If you are not careful, you will lose yourself within the vastness of that strength and power. You will never be entirely in control of what transpires around you when delving into another person’s mind. Do not allow yourself to become overconfident or complacent. The house you will enter is not your own and can change on a whim.” He had given her a taste and more of what it was like to be at the mercy of another’s mind.

  “I’m not sure I want to remember what happened,” Sacha finally answered. Now that she paused to actually taste what she was drinking, she found she enjoyed it. “Where did Kahl get this?” she asked, holding up her mug. “It’s not bad.”

  Rouke grinned. “He made it. The food, too.” The chair creaked as the soldier leaned back. “He’s quite the talented man.”

  “You’ve been holding out on me, Rouke,” Sacha replied. “I would expect as much from the chancellor, but not you.” She gave him a reproachful glance. “Aren’t we better friends than that?”

  “You’re stallin’,” Rouke said over his cup. “If you don’t want to be tellin’ me what went on, that’s fine, but you’re goin’ to have to pull yourself together at some point.”

  His words were sobering. Though Sacha still experienced the fuzzy touch of alcohol, it had not relieved her of her fears—yet. “Not today. I cannot handle the nightmares of today.” She drained the rest of her flagon.

  Rouke frowned. After a moment of consideration, he picked up one of the pitchers and filled her cup. “We’ll speak of it another time.”

  “Thank you,” Sacha said. She continued to drink, trying to forget the horrific landscapes and pitfalls Teacher had shown her. The hope and expectation of success she initially felt had waned almost entirely. She was out of her depth, and she knew it, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying. She just wouldn’t be trying today.

  Several days later, Rouke led her to a small building at the very edge of Riverside’s enclosed property just off the riverbank. The ever-present jungle had been allowed free rein in this corner of the grounds. Large vines and thick leaves covered the path they traveled, but a gravelly trail was still distinguishable from the dense foliage growing on either side. The building itself was similar to the other structures found at Riverside. Large, natural stones built the foundation, while deftly applied clay and heavy timber made up its four walls. A small covered porch extended from the front door and continued around to the back, copying the massive veranda that encircled the villa’s main living quarters.

  Her belly knotted as they approached the guard standing on the porch, but she steeled herself. There’s no turning back now. Sacha recognized the young sentry from previous visits to the villa, though she didn’t know him by name. His posture was rigid, with hands folded over the pommel of his unsheathed sword. Deep-brown eyes that complemented his dark skin studied them as they came up the path.

  Rouke acknowledged the man, placing a fist to his chest. “Your vigilance is appreciated, Pandu.”

  The guard nodded, mimicking Rouke’s salute, and then stepped aside so Rouke and Sacha could enter.

  The door opened to a barren room that smelled of unwashed, sweaty men and recently used chamber pots. The two windows on the far wall did nothing to ventilate the area, even though they were wide open. Other than the chamber pots and straw, the only things in the building were three dirty, bandaged men. This building had obviously not been intended for use as a jail. There were no bars or cages. Rouke had improvised by having three massive spikes driven into the floor next to each wall. Attached to each spike was a large iron ring, which was in turn linked to a length of chain and manacles.

  The men themselves were a varied lot in both size and color. The largest of the three had dark skin, similar to Kahl’s, and thick clusters of muscle along his shoulders, arms, and legs. While the giant stood out
because of his immense size, the second of the trio stood out for the exact opposite reason. Though not much taller than a dwarf, the little man’s features were definitely human. He glared at Sacha with a curious mixture of fear and disdain. The last man was as ordinary looking as Rouke except for the reddish tint to his skin. If not for the filth, he would have fit into the ranks of the Basinian infantry without notice.

  “What are your names?” Sacha asked as she walked into the room.

  “Who wants to know?” the short one snapped.

  Sacha glanced at the small man. “Someone with the power to set you free.”

  “Name’s Adin,” the average-sized man said. “And I’ll help ya with whatever ya want.” He leered at Sacha with a crooked grin.

  Rouke stepped forward, his eye twitching. “Shut your hole, or I’ll cut a new one for ya.”

  “Rouke.” Sacha placed a calming hand on his arm. “That will do.”

  Rouke’s furious gaze remained on Adin, but he stepped back.

  “Gelt,” the large man mumbled into the awkward silence.

  The short man crossed his arms over his chest. “I ain’t sayin’ nothin’ to you.”

  “Well, I have a few things to say to all of you,” Sacha replied. “It is assumed, and has been for generations, that the Wildmen are leaderless rabble. I think that assumption is incorrect. I think you do have a leader of some sort, and I would like one of you to tell me who that is.”

  Adin lazily raised his hand and asked, “Does this ‘leader’ get to bed you?”

  The short man’s cackle filled the room at the same moment Rouke’s sword rang from its sheath. Gelt did nothing but watch with interest as Adin joined his tiny friend in laughter.

  “Enough!” Sacha commanded, bringing Rouke to a halt. She had not expected these men to voluntarily tell her what they knew. Offering them the chance to do so was just stalling. The truth was that she was terrified of what she might find behind the eyes of these three men. Teacher had done an excellent job of making her wary of what might be waiting for her.

  She took a deep breath and turned to face Gelt. “There are other ways to find the answers I seek.” Sacha was already filled with arcane power; she had drawn it in as they walked, knowing it would be needed. Without another word, Sacha closed her eyes and pulled from the resources of mystical energy within.

  After the multiple warnings and threats of dire consequence, Teacher’s first lesson had been to share the fact that she had already known the first step. The ability to sense the pattern of all living things and their effect on, in, and through the Shamonrae was the door. Learning how to focus appropriately was the key to opening it.

  Sacha focused her arcane sense on the large wildman and instantly recognized the two pulsing globes of bluish-green energy held within his body. The larger of the two globes resided in the center of his chest. The second, smaller globe was in his head and flared twice as bright as the writhing ball in his torso. Small pulses of blue energy shot back and forth between the two nodes and then out to the rest of his body. Just like Teacher’s, she thought.

  In her mind, Sacha fashioned a slim blade out of the power, similar to what she had seen the physicians use. She made it glow bright amber so it would be easy to differentiate between her power and the life force she was about to open.

  She gently probed the surface of the smaller globe with her arcane sense, searching for the best place to cut. Teacher had said she could expect at least three barriers in every mind, but there were always weaknesses that could be exploited if one knew how and where to look. He had gone on to say that a mage would possess much greater defenses than a normal person.

  Gelt was no practitioner. Sacha found the thinnest parts of his first natural shield with ease. She pushed her blade forward to deftly slice into the pulsing membrane. Before she could think twice, she had dismissed her blade and plunged into Gelt’s opened mind.

  Teacher’s second barrier had been filled with a dense, bluish swirling mist, laden with pearlescent swirls of color. Gelt’s second layer was far less dense. If there were colors, they were so pale as to not be visible to her senses. Sacha could actually see a fair distance ahead, whereas in Teacher’s mind, she was unable to see her own hand in front of her face.

  It was in this layer of the mind that Teacher had shown her the horrors that could beset the unwary. Sacha cringed as she recalled the slavering, nameless beasts that had materialized at every turn to defend her master’s mind. Even worse had been the feeling of complete helplessness that gripped her when he had demonstrated what it was like to be simply overpowered by the host.

  How much time passed while she cowered in anticipation was difficult to say, but finally she began to relax. Apparently, Gelt had no terrors waiting within the drifting clouds of his consciousness.

  Sacha began to move through the mist in search of the third barrier Teacher had shown her to look for. Even though she didn’t require hands or a body per se in this world of thought, she still envisioned herself along the same lines as she was in the material world. When she reached through the fog, it was with a hand formed of her mind and power. When she began to pass through the swirls of gray mist, it was head first, and there was a definite sense of her own body walking forward.

  Within Teacher, the fog was so thick that her sense of direction was useless, but here she was able to follow an instinct that led her deeper into the Wildman’s mind. The third barrier materialized out of the mist quickly as she walked. Just as the second barrier had been different from Teacher’s, so was the third. A flimsy, pockmarked wall the color of gray mud stretched before her, extending in all directions as far as her senses could reach. Teacher’s final barrier had been a magnificently pristine wall of stone, with no visible imperfections to be found on its polished surface.

  This was the furthest point Sacha had traveled into Teacher’s mind. According to her mentor, what she would find beyond this wall was everything that made Gelt who he was: his thoughts, his memories, his very soul. He had also mentioned that a significant amount of force was necessary to breach the third barrier of a person’s mind.

  Sacha summoned her blade once more, and after looking at the slim, graceful instrument, discarded it for something with a bit more strength. The glowing, amber-colored knife transformed into a massive spike. A piercing weapon seemed far more appropriate for the job. She focused her power behind the newly made weapon and launched it forward.

  The spike tore through the sticky membrane, leaving a gaping hole the size of a castle gate.

  Sacha gasped in shock, horrified at the damage she had caused.

  Impressions of Gelt’s mind showered out from the crater, covering Sacha with images from his life. At first she tried to grab at the memories in hopes of finding some useful information, but she quickly realized that the fountain of thoughts could not be captured as they sped by: a woman that held him. A man he feared. The brown eyes of a dog. An open, arid plain. His first sight of the towering majesty of a winewood tree. On and on, the images rushed at Sacha until she had no hope of separating them. They flickered past, leaving only swiftly ebbing sensations of hunger, joy, fear, and pain.

  One of Teacher’s final words of warning echoed in Sacha’s mind as she realized what she’d done. “As dangerous as the mind can be for a mage, the mage is just as dangerous to the mind. Tread lightly when delving into another person’s thoughts. You could end their life in an instant without realizing what you’ve done.”

  Sacha knew. She knew in that moment that she had killed Gelt. She could feel his spirit being swept away with the tidal wave of memory, experience, and emotion that poured from the breach. As the last drops of his essence faded, tendrils of ghastly shadow sprang up from below and whipped around Sacha, dragging her toward the darkened pit that now occupied the void that had been Gelt’s mind.

  “No!” she yelled, though there was no sound. Sacha fought in vain against the strands of death that pulled her closer and closer to the void.<
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  The knife, Sacha thought through the panic. Use the knife.

  The amber blade appeared instantly. Its razor’s edge severed strap after strap, but the yawning chasm crept ever nearer. She clawed at the decaying membrane of Gelt’s broken mind as she approached the precipice of darkness. She screamed soundlessly, clinging to the very edge of sanity and frantically plying her knife.

  Sacha tumbled from Gelt’s dying mind back into her own. She reeled from the mind-jarring impact, falling to her knees on the dirty floor of the storage building. Ripples of pain twisted her gut, making her retch several times before she could regain control of herself.

  “Princess!” Rouke yelled, his hands grasping her shoulders. “For the love of Eos—”

  “I’m fine,” Sacha interrupted, when she was able to speak. “Help me.”

  Rouke gently pulled her to her feet and kept one hand under her elbow, even after she was able to steady herself. Frustration and worry laced his voice. “Are you hurt?”

  Sacha almost barked a bitter laugh. She felt soiled, tired, and wounded in a way that had nothing to do with her flesh. She opened her mouth to lie to Rouke, to tell him she was fine, when she noticed the foul new stench on the air. She coughed and glanced at Gelt, knowing with certainty what she would find. The giant lay twisted in his chains, eyes burned away and palms blackened. Light wisps of smoke wafted from his lifeless body. “Yes,” she found herself saying, “but not as badly as him.”

  “I’ll tell ya everythin’ I know,” the short man was squealing. “Anything ya want, just don’t kill me!” Adin had likewise lost his bravado. He huddled against the wall as far away from her as his chains would allow, eyes wide and limbs trembling.

  “I appreciate your change of heart,” Sacha replied, almost whispering. Tears moistened her cheeks, but they were not tears of sadness. There was sorrow, but it felt distant, as if remembering the loss of something from long ago. She knew these two would tell her things now, but that didn’t change the fact that she would have to delve into their minds—she had to be sure of the truth. More than that, however, she still needed the practice.