Hunger made short work of the sandwich and cleared out some of the dizziness. He wiped the excess grease on his tunic, smearing Ran's handprint then grabbed a flask of some mysterious brew to wash it all down. Sarn flipped the blanket back over the covered dishes as Nolo's footsteps became audible even to his bad ear.
Before it settled, its hem twitched as Ran crawled under it. Sarn pulled the cloth down, so it covered Ran’s rump while the hungry boy got situated. Smart boy, the cloth almost touched the ground rendering him effectively invisible. I hope no one shows up to claim that cart.
Sarn brushed the crumbs from his uniform while he marshalled his arguments for a night off. When he was as presentable as he could get, he turned to meet his grimacing master.
“Don’t you ever change clothes or bathe? I swear you’re grubbier every time I see you. Is that the same tunic and trousers you wore last night? They are, aren't they? But they’re twice as filthy.” Nolo tsked.
They were the same ones, so Sarn just nodded, embarrassed by all the dirt stains. This conversation was already off to a bad start, but he had no idea how to correct that.
Nolo circled him, his black face creasing with increasing concern at what he saw. “What have you been doing?”
Sarn opened his mouth to answer then closed it. Where do I even start? How much should I say? On the climb up here, he hadn’t given that much thought. A dizzying number of explanations—all true, but heavily edited to remove the things he’d rather not admit—occurred to him. Before Sarn could say anything, Nolo seized his chin and tilted his head down so he could look directly into his master’s eyes.
Sarn flinched, but nothing happened—no gaze-lock, no surreal swap of memories because the magic no longer infected his sight or his mind. Gone was that bizarre insight eye contact used to bring with it.
“What happened to your eyes? Why aren’t they glowing?”
“I lost my magic.”
“How? Are you sick? You look paler than usual. I swear, if those dark circles get any deeper, they’ll swallow you whole.”
“I’m not going to a healer. I don’t need one.”
Sarn backed away from Nolo’s concern and crashed into the cart causing a dozen covered things to clink, clatter and clang. I can’t bear that after everything I’ve been through, not tonight.
Ran touched the back of his leg right where his boot ended, and that contact only ratcheted up his unease. The healer had brought Ran into this world but hadn’t seen him since. And he won't tonight either. He'll never lay his filthy hands on my son, ever.
“Yes, you are. Don’t make me order you to go because I will. You don’t look right.”
There was that word again, ‘order.’ It had haunted Sarn ever since he’d sworn to obey the Lord of the Mountain and his subordinates. Just hearing that word made Sarn flinch because he still must obey every order given to him even without his magic.
Nolo folded his arms and his dark green uniform emphasized his lean, muscular build, daring Sarn to push him on this. So he squared his shoulders and almost face-planted when he confronted Nolo. Above all, he had to keep Nolo from giving him a direct order.
Nolo steadied him as Sarn tried to push words past the geas that bound him to the truth. That, too, was still in place. Shouldn’t it be gone if my magic’s truly locked away?
“Don't, please, don't say it. Your orders are binding. I still can't lie or renege on a promise. It’s not my magic enforcing that injunction.” And that thought frightened Sarn most of all. “What else is there?”
He caught Nolo’s startled gaze and held it. Still no gaze lock, no transfer of memories or glimpses of things he’d rather not know or share.
“You know, don’t you? Tell me what has the power to bind me like this if it’s not magic?”
Sarn gripped the lapels of his master’s uniform jacket and hauled Nolo up until they were eye-to-eye. A strange energy fired Sarn and burned away his exhaustion. It wouldn’t last. He’d been pushed too far over the last two days. He was crossing a line now, but he couldn’t stop. The desire for knowledge outweighed everything even common sense.
“Tell me, please.” Because I might go insane if you don’t. Sarn let go of Nolo and scrubbed both hands over his face. “I need to understand. My magic’s—”
Gone, hidden, locked away—which was an accurate description of his current state?
“—It’s blocked.” Sarn clenched his fists. “But the promise is still active—it’s stronger in fact without it. Why is that?”
Nolo straightened his uniform. “Why do you think I would know the answer?”
It was just a feeling—no, a certainty, and it fit in some strange way. Maybe that was exhaustion putting ideas in his head. Maybe he just wanted his master to have all the answers because the alternative was too scary to contemplate.
“Because you know things I don’t.”
And I need to understand this for my son's sake.
“There’s only one entity I can think of who can enforce anything—God, not the fallen ones but the one true God. Did you swear to him or on his name?”
“I don’t know. I only remember bits and pieces of the whole swearing thing.”
But this wasn't the first time Nolo’s God had come up in conversation. Perhaps when things settle down, I should find out more about Him. Especially if He’s holding the reigns of my promises.
“We can talk more about this after a healer sees you. You really don’t look well.”
Sarn shook his head. It was time to make his case while he could still think clearly. “You can force me to go, but I’m asking you not to.”
Nolo raised an eyebrow at that. “Why not? You look like death warmed over.”
“Because I gave my word. I promised to help someone, and I can’t do that from the infirmary. It'll tear me apart if you order me to go. Besides, there’s nothing a healer can do for me. I must resolve this on my own.”
“Explain.”
“I can’t.”
Nor did Sarn have a clue where to begin that tale. It had become so tangled.
“To do that, I need tonight off. Will you give me it?”
“After the healers pronounce you fit, and you give me a better explanation, then you can help your friend.”
Nolo’s eyes were chips of black ice. As he pronounced Sarn’s doom, his shadow writhed into a cloaked figure. Death materialized beside its Marksman and fixed its unfathomable eyes on Sarn. What did it see?
Instead of shrinking under that timeless gaze, Sarn stood to his full height and towered over Death. He had more than half a foot on both Death and Nolo.
“What have you done?” asked Death’s avatar.
A black arrow appeared in Nolo’s hand. Sarn eased away from it, but that obsidian point followed him. Which Death would Nolo condemn him to?
Chasing Darkness
“I will ransom you, My people. Though you're lost in the Adversary’s trap—I will not leave you to suffer. I will not let darkness take you. I will save you and bring you home," J.C. vowed to the souls caught in the Adversary's trap, but His assurance didn't comfort them.
Finding them would, but every turn just revealed another tunnel, and they all looked alike. He’d been searching for hours and was no closer to the pit. This place truly is a maze, and I have no one to guide me. Unless, He found Sarn and involved that young man and his son in this again. I can’t do that. They must stay away. This foe is beyond them.
The souls in the Adversary’s trap called to J.C. again, and a tear slid unchecked down His cheek at their predicament.
“I will save you and bring you home."
As His promise echoed onward, spreading the Good News, J.C. marched to its cadence. But his repeated assurances still weren't calming those souls. The spell maintaining the soul trap must be blocking My voice. It shouldn’t be able to do that, but a lot of things that shouldn't be happening were. So what was one more?
Maybe it was the black lumir crystal’s doing. After
all, only a thin line separated belief from magic, and there was still a lot He didn't know about those mysterious gems.
“Somebody, please, help us!”
Hold tight. I’m coming. Not even the mist clawing at the laces of His sandals could stop J.C. He shook his foot to free it and disperse some of the mist rolling in black waves over the ground.
A rock shifted underfoot, and His cross swelled up, growing almost too heavy to carry as somewhere off in the distance, more people begged for help. Their pleas mixed with the thuds of many large things banging into walls and other load-bearing structures. Had those new pleas come from somewhere up ahead or someplace behind Him?
"Where are you? Tell Me, so I can come to you.”
On command, images of carnage hit so hard, J.C. wobbled until He regained his balance. Tentacles the size of trees whipped about, destroying everything they struck. People fled from them, but row upon row of columns toppled, and the ceiling caved in. Where in this subterranean maze are you?
But they couldn’t tell Him, nor could He discern their location from the glimpses He caught from their frightened minds. Rocks fell, entombing them, and they sobbed for breath. A tremor went through His cross as more than a dozen lives hung in the balance. They were cut short before their time by a monster from outside the natural order, and thus, the Balance as well.
J.C. staggered under the increasing weight of the cross He bore. Its central post was the gateway between good and evil, allowing all who repented to enter. While its transverse was the alpha and the omega—the stick propping open the door to heaven, so death was no longer an end but a beginning of something new. And all that rested on his rangy shoulders, so J.C. gritted his teeth and took another wobbly step.
More stones fell, burying the people calling for help. Lives ended in that crush with such speed, His knees buckled, and J.C. fell.
“Please, someone help us!”
“I’m coming. I’ll roll those stones away,” J.C. said to the dying. “Their lives are not yours to take. I will stop you.”
That last part He’d addressed to a beast He’d only glimpsed when it had collapsed a wall many hours ago in another tunnel. Sarn and his son had ended up on the far side of that rubble pile with the monster. I hope you both escaped. J.C. could check, but there was nothing He could do if they hadn’t. Ran’s fate was tied to his father’s, and Sarn’s fate was inextricably tangled up with three others.
“That monster’s life is not yours to take either,” said a voice from the cross as a shining dove perched on its transverse.
“All we need is My Father to drop by, and We have a trinity.”
The dove rolled its eyes at His too-true statement, and J.C. sighed. He could really use a laugh right now because He was becoming a bit frayed around the edges, but the Holy Spirit didn’t have a sense of humor. You had to be human for that, and it had never been.
“Did my Father send you, or did you come on your own behalf?”
The dove inclined its head but didn’t offer a message or explanation. It was in one of its cryptic moods because it had sensed the Adversary’s presence—just great. J.C. wiped the sweat from his stinging eyes.
“Can whatever you came to tell me wait until I’ve dealt with a few things?” Because He really didn’t feel like teasing out the spirit’s message and decoding it, not while lives hung in the balance and thus, in his hands.
While the dove considered that in silence, J.C. lifted His hand to send those trapped in the cave-in a blessing to ease their suffering. But the words never left His lips. Behind him, the cross vibrated with the pain and the shouts of the dying as it leaned hard against His back, doubling Him up. J.C. threw out a hand before He kissed the ground and the half-formed blessing sparked on his fingers.
The dove cooed something. Hopefully, it was a ‘yes, it can wait’ reply to His initial query then it hopped off the cross, caught the blessing He’d woven in its claws and flew around the bend to deliver His words to those who needed them.
“Thank you,” J.C. sent after it and received a silent, ‘you’re welcome,’ in return. I guess whatever business brought it here can wait. Which was good because there were a lot of people who couldn’t. The cross broadcasted their panicked screams, and J.C. winced.
“Have mercy on them,” He said between pants.
He could scarce breathe doubled over like this. Darkness flirted with Him because there was only so much punishment a human body could take, but J.C. refused to give in. With one almighty shove, He pushed up, straightened his back and gulped down a lungful of air. His cross vibrated with righteous wrath now.
“Peace, Father, I will save them. I just need a moment to rest. Mortal bodies weaken easily, but I chose this path, so I will prevail.”
J.C. just wasn’t certain how. Movement in the mist drew his attention. Was the monster coming to Him or just its appendages?
Better Me than Sarn. If it came, He’d keep it busy and buy as much time as possible for Sarn to finish the trial and hopefully, regain his magic and a fighting chance to save his home and his adorable son. The cries of the hurt and dying swelled again as another gallery caved-in.
“Have mercy on them.”
But if the monster heard, it ignored His plea and kept on crashing its appendages into walls and columns and everything in its path, uncaring who it buried. The images cut off as the ground quivered, raining rocks on Him. I must be in an adjacent tunnel.
“Are you trying to bring the mountain down on our heads?” Because it certainly seemed that way as J.C. dodged a hail of stones.
The monster didn’t answer. But a black mist curled around J.C. as He rose, torn between saving the souls in the Adversary’s trap and easing the suffering of those slowly being crushed to death. They both called to Him, and His sacred heart bled for them all, but one group was already trapped and the other could be if the Adversary reached them first.
I can’t let that happen. That devil’s already more powerful than he should be. So the still-living must take precedence. Where are you? J.C. stretched out his thoughts in search of them. Before He could get a fix, something grabbed His ankle, and J.C. fell forward into a stalagmite sticking out of the black mist.
According to Sarn, that roiling black stuff was a physical manifestation of the black lumir crystal’s magic-eating power. So why are you bothering Me? My power comes from belief not magic, and you can’t touch that.
“Help us.”
The people trapped in the collapsed gallery called to Him again.
“Be at peace. I will ransom you from the darkness. Be at peace.”
But the mist kept thickening as He pressed on until it became a spider web of black cords, blocking the way. You can try to tangle Me up all you like, but you won’t. J.C. shifted his cross, so it rested against his left shoulder and bladed his right hand. J.C. slashed through the black bonds trying to trap him.
“Take My love with you when you go—be at peace,” J.C. sang to the dying, ministering to them in their last hours despite the distance. Meanwhile, He hacked and slashed his way through an increasingly dense web in that mutating mist until he slammed into a hard surface.
“Let Me pass. I have people to save.” The Adversary won’t despoil them. I won’t allow it. “Fly free, My brothers and sisters. Be at peace. Take My love with you when you go—be at peace.”
His cross grew heavier every moment He stood there immobilized by the Covenant. But the Balance, too, was tilting in the enemy’s favor, dimming His cross and weakening J.C. Somewhere ahead, the dying called to Him, but J.C. couldn’t go on until the Covenant let Him. That meant those people still had a chance. Someone might yet reach them in time to help. But He could ease the suffering of those who would expire before such help could arrive. So J.C. raised his voice and sang again.
“Fly free, My brothers and sisters. Be at peace. Take My love with you when you go—be at peace.”
Water plinked onto His shoulder, wetting his travel-stained robe, and rol
ling stones grazed his sandal-shot feet, but J.C. blocked all that out and bowed his dark head, ready to begin again.
“Listen to My voice. Let Me lead you out of your sins and suffering.”
His voice rang like a bell, calling their Guardian Angels to rise and guide the souls expiring somewhere beyond this wall on their last journey.
“Even though darkness covers you, be at peace. Light always rises again—be at peace. Take My love with you when you go—be at peace. Fly free, My brothers and sisters. Be at peace.”
“There will be no peace for you, Bright One.”
“Who said that?” J.C. scanned that black web, which was growing denser by the moment. Cords as thick as His wrist wove a trap around Him.
“We did.”
Rough hands jostled J.C. as grinning faces appeared and disappeared in the mist. J.C. ignored them since they weren’t of heaven or hell. Thus, there was nothing that fog could do to Him. But that infernal mist was slowing Him down.
Wizened things that had once been human rose out of that black fog and beside them, skulls grinned as skeletal hands reached for him. They were the same desiccated things that had badly frightened Ran earlier. What had that sweet boy called them?
“Ghosts and ghouls and sallow fools—oh, how they cool. Oh, how they cool 'neath the land where nulls rule!” they sang in a discordant chorus.
“Get behind Me, fiends.”
The nulls had found Him again. I guess it was too much to hope that Ran had destroyed them with his father’s pendant. J.C. pressed on, using his cross as a battering ram. Nulls fell like dominoes back into the mist that had spawned them only to rise again, still grinning maniacally and singing that infernal chant.
“Ghosts and ghouls and sallow fools—oh, how they cool. Oh, how they cool 'neath the land where nulls rule!”
Since they weren’t from hell, but were instead a perversion of nature, His cross had no effect on them. But a certain crystal's glow had. J.C. thought back to that moment in another tunnel when Ran had raised that crystal pendant, and those nulls had fled from it. Later, his father had done the same thing.
Curse Breaker: Sundered Page 14
