At the time, J.C. had only caught a brief glimpse of it because first one then the other had said some fairly alarming things about some magic-eating crystals. Things that had explained how the Adversary had gotten around the Covenant and his bodiless state to corrupt so many innocent souls.
“What is your secret?” J.C. asked of that gem in his memory. “You’re not a splinter of the true cross. So what are you?” Why did the Nulls flee from your light?
They’d disappeared for a good long while after that crystal incident. What had drawn them back? Perhaps they’d just needed time to respawn. J.C. crashed into a wall of black webbing, and it stuck to his cross, muting its light until He ripped those black threads off it.
“No darkness can steal My light. I'm the light of the world, and I shine before all.”
The nulls climbed His body, digging their claws into his clothes, ripping them. Their black eyes had a metallic sheen in the light of His aura. J.C. knocked them off and chucked them back into the mist.
Somewhere a bell tolled, calling the light, and in heaven above, an angel on bended knee received her wings from the One King. She lifted her dark head and joined the rising choir of the bells ding-donging in the night. Twenty-one more angels gained their wings and took flight.
As they passed over Mount Eredren, each newly-minted angel hovered, becoming another star to guide the men and women traveling through the night.
“My light I give you,” each angel said as they plucked a glowing feather from their wings and let it fall.
Midair those feathers changed into gleaming doves, flying straight and true through the earth and under it, never veering from their goal. Each one was a prayer, and they cannoned out of the stalactite-covered ceiling into the nulls and the mutating mist, dispersing both. Then those doves reversed course, contracting into a ring around J.C.
They angled their wings, so they reflected His light, magnifying it until once more, He shone like the sun, and his light cleared away the rest of the fog. J.C. lowered His cross until its center post rested on the ground, so he could rest his arms.
“Thank you,” He sent to the angels sky-dancing above Mount Eredren, and they inclined their heads before flying off on their noctilucent journeys to distant stars.
But this wasn’t over, nor were the nulls defeated. Already, their scattered bits and bobs were accreting. Fingers rejoined hands and the nulls raised their fists high as that chanting started again.
“Darkness rises, eclipsing light. ‘Neath the land where Nulls rule. Magic’s no longer mankind’s tool. Ghosts and ghouls and sallow fools—oh, how they cool. Oh, how they cool—killed by the nulls who rule. Yes, killed by nulls who rule!”
They laughed as they pressed against His aura and pounded on it, seeking weaknesses to exploit, but they found none. That white nimbus was stoked by belief and stronger than death.
Now I understand your fear, Lady of the Green Woods. Black lumir crystals are more dangerous than I had realized. But this wasn’t the first trap that had tried to contain Him.
J.C. relaxed instead of fighting it, and the eternal part of Him merged with the cross of light he carried and together, they rose, two spirits in one, flying like a brilliant dove to the people calling his name, and the nulls followed, dragging their dark, magic-eating mist ever behind them.
“You can't overtake me. I am the light.”
And the dying needed that light. J.C. slammed into an invisible barrier. It was the Covenant, and it stopped Him inches from a wall of broken stones. Since He was enrobed in flesh, J.C. had to obey Nature’s rules, and she didn’t allow fleshy bodies to pass through solid stone without true magic, preferably wielded by a mage like Sarn. But Sarn wasn’t here, nor were there any other mages about capable of supporting such a spell thanks to the black lumir crystal and its magic-nullifying power.
J.C. rested his hand on those rocks as the last trapped woman's life ebbed away, and her spirit rose like a plume of incense to His Father’s throne. Welcome them. Into your hands, Father, I commend their spirits.
“Be at peace. Fly to Our Father in heaven. Be at peace, My brothers and sisters. Be at peace.”
Echoes of a plaintive call broke through His concentration.
“Shining One!”
“Who calls?”
It was the bird-like familiar of someone called ‘Nulthir’ who’d shown up earlier.
“So you found Me again.”
For some reason, that made J.C. smile, but his work wasn’t done here. Others called to Him, and there were more nulls rapidly reconstituting just beyond the edge of His light. Either they were also multiplying, or His aura was drawing all of them to Him. That wasn’t a bad thing if it kept them away from Ran. That sweet child had had enough shocks for one day.
“Shining One, Friend Nulthir is looking for you,” Thing One said.
His mind-voice was soft due to the distance it had traveled but growing in volume with every wingbeat. The little creature was homing in on J.C. Thing One sent images of men and women in blue-uniforms hacking and slashing at every tentacle they encountered. They were doing their best to damage that monster anyway they could, but the barrage of images didn’t show whether they were succeeding.
“Go back, my little friend. It’s not safe.”
Until I get rid of those nulls, I must stay away from everyone they could harm. Those Guards with your friend Nulthir need to remain free to act and to save.
“But they’re looking for you. Where are you, Shining One? We seek you.” Thing One squawked as he lost his fix on J.C.
“Then you shall find Me when the time is right but not yet. I need to deal with a few things. Go back to your friends. They need you.” J.C. veiled his aura, dropping the tunnel into darkness, and the nulls started chanting again.
“Ghosts and ghouls and sallow fools—oh, how they cool. Oh, how they cool— ‘neath the land where nulls rule!”
“Shining One? Are you still there?” Thing One called.
But J.C. didn’t answer. He was too busy fending off a swarm of singing nulls.
A Run-in with Death
The black arrow in Nolo’s hand shined faintly violet as it followed Sarn. It pointed at his heart.
“Which death is that?” Sarn asked to buy time. Though, he had no idea what for. There was no cavalry coming to save him. Life didn’t work like that. I must get myself out of this mess.
“That death is not yours.”
“Sovvan?”
“I'm here, bro.”
A wing tip interrupted Sarn’s vision as weakness and relief made his knees buckle. Maybe there was a cavalry after all. He’d forgotten his sister was hanging about. Sarn banged into a statue but stayed on his feet as strength flooded back into him. A white feather drifted on the air as his sister's presence receded. Sarn had a feeling she hadn’t left by her own free will, and that was worrisome.
“I promised I’d always be with you, and I meant it. One sec, bro, I need a moment to shake my tail. I swear that angel is really starting to annoy me.”
“You need to do what?”
Sovvan didn’t answer. She was gone from his perception as if she’d never been there at all. Having an angelic sister at his beck and call would take some getting used to especially if she kept making cryptic comments every time she showed up. But at least he wasn’t alone anymore. Well, not technically, Sovvan was somewhere nearby just out of sensing range. Since his magic was blocked, she could be on the other side of the wall, and he’d never know.
“Well, that was interesting, but ultimately a useless gesture. The dead can’t interfere with the living. I expect she’s getting chapter and verse on that. I wouldn’t count on her help again.”
Death kicked the feather Sovvan had left behind and turned its back on Sarn. The feather slid toward him. Instead of picking it up, he swept it under the cart into the eager hands of his son. Maybe it could protect Ran. Sovvan hadn’t left parts of herself behind on previous appearances, and there was no reas
on for her to start doing that now. So it must have some magic in it.
“What do you mean?”
“Just what I said. The Powers That Be will lock your sister up good and tight until you expire. She’ll have no reason to rebel once your dead and dusted. And that’s another reason to take you off the board.”
That arrow was still trained on him. Nolo’s expression hadn’t changed either. If there was an internal battle going on, and Sarn hoped there was, it didn’t show on his face. Maybe a direct appeal would help because Death was definitely not on his side.
“You don’t want to do this.”
“Yes, he does. Striking you down now would be kinder than letting this farce continue. You’re too naïve to live much longer.”
“I can learn.”
Sarn jostled the cart and probably alarmed his son, but there was nothing he could do about that except block it with his body and hope Ran stayed under there. Though, the cart couldn’t possibly protect his son from Death.
“From who?” Death folded its skeletal arms over its flat chest. “There’s no one here to teach you the things you need to know. And if you could find someone, all the learning in the world won’t stop entities like the Adversary from coming after you.”
“Nolo? What do you have to say about this?”
So far, his master had been silent. Had the Marksman persona completely subsumed him or was some corner of his awareness still awake and aware. How far should I push him?
“He can hear you, but he knows what I know. That arrow will save you from a worse fate. Don’t you want that?” Death cocked its head to one side, but there was no face visible under the hood anymore just two gray orbs peering through the dim veil of gray stars covering Death’s face.
“Is that true?”
Nolo nodded, and there went his last hope for escape. It was snuffed out by those dark eyes which had looked so often at him with worry and sometimes, exasperation. Sarn had two options left—take it like a man or try to run. Though, he doubted he’d get far exhausted as he was. Besides, what Death wanted, it took, and it wanted him.
“Then just do it. I’m tired of running. I just want to sit for ten minutes without something trying to kill, capture or overshadow me.”
Sarn leaned into the statue standing guard over the cart, and a tiny hand snaked out from under it and patted his calf again. I love you too, son. I wish you had a better father. One who’s smarter and less magical than me. You deserve so much better than I could ever give you. If Death got its way, he would never have a chance to try and remedy that.
Nolo lowered the arrow but didn’t return it to the Marksman’s quiver. Death gave Sarn a respectful nod, and the world stood still. Time dilated, stretching to the breaking point as Nolo pivoted in slow motion to face his master.
His shadow rippled and swelled up until it stood next to him again. It was a physical manifestation of Death’s Marksman. Nolo gripped the arrow. The Marksman held the bow. When he spoke, the Marksman spoke too. They were of one mind.
“His life is ours. It was given to us to hold in trust for another. We decide who takes it and when.”
When they finished speaking, they turned their heads and regarded Sarn, who stood there in stunned silence.
What are they talking about? Is this that damned promise's doing? Probably. Everything seemed to circle back to that.
Death slow-clapped. “Well played, you’re full of surprises, Curse Breaker. I see why my Chooser of the Slain likes you.”
Every muscle in Sarn’s body froze as Death stretched out a bony hand and swept him away from the cart, and the pair of curious green eyes peering out from under the starchy white cloth covering it. Oh Fate, no, she’s after my son!
“What have we here? Who are you, little watcher?”
Move, damn it! Death knows about your son! Sarn tried to move, but his legs refused to work. Out of the corner of his eye, Sarn watched in growing horror as Death’s pallid hand grasped that snowy white linen.
It paused there with one hand poised to reveal his heart and soul, his brave little son who had no protection against such a treacherous entity except cuteness. Ran had melted sterner hearts than this, but even his adorableness might not be a match for Death.
Sovvan! Sarn screamed his sister’s name inside his mind since his mouth no longer worked. If ever there was a need to summon her it was now. I must recall her. But how? Sarn had no idea how he’d summoned her before.
What if Death was right? No, Death must be lying because Sovvan had not lied she’d said she’d always be there for me. I would have known. But she had not always come when he’d called. Doubt creeped in. What if she was detained just as Death had said?
Sovvan! Sarn braced himself but she didn’t appear.
Death glanced over its shoulder to make sure he was watching. It had to know he was desperately trying to summon his sister, and it looked confident no help would arrive. He could tell by the set of its bony shoulders.
“You can call her all you like, but she’s rather tied up at the moment, and your soul is quite unguarded.” Death extended a hand, and Sarn rocked forward as a cold power clawed at his chest. “I could take it. Your soul tempts me, Curse Breaker. It’s so bright, so beautiful, so pure. There are only a few spots on it. I could keep it that way.”
Death curled its fingers around a fistful of air and stroked it. The skin on Sarn’s chest bulged, and his heart beat faster as invisible fingers gripped it and tugged it toward the bony cage of his ribs. A vise closed around his chest, and Sarn gasped for breath.
Hunger blazed in Death’s eyes as its skin melted away on one side to reveal the skull beneath. That hunger was a fierce fire flickering in the eye-less sockets of the skull-half of its face.
“He doesn’t belong to you,” Nolo and the Marksman said in unison as a black blur passed between Sarn and Death.
An arrow blossomed in Death’s shoulder. It buried itself to its black fletching, and Sarn could breathe again. He slumped onto the cart when his legs gave out. Nothing broke or fell, but everything clinked as he sat there and just breathed. His tunic was torn. Through the finger-long tears, he found no blood just a red handprint over his heart, but even that bruise was fading. Whatever Death had tried to do wasn’t immediately fatal. Thank Fate for that small mercy.
Death plucked the arrow from its shoulder and tossed it back to its Marksman. Nolo caught it but didn’t return it to his quiver. It remained trained on them, but Sarn couldn’t tell who he intended it for.
“I forgive you for that. You didn't know I wasn’t going to take his soul. Even I can sense a prior claim on it.” Death turned to Sarn and patted his cheek with a cold bony hand and moved him away from the cart. “Relax, your death is not mine to mete out, Curse Breaker. So you’re safe from me for now. But not from him. He can end you whenever he wishes. Something to ponder next time you vex him, hmm?”
Death nodded to Nolo. Shadows blanketed its face again removing that ghastly sight from view, and Sarn wasn’t sorry to see it go. Death was less disturbing in a deep hood until it cocked its head to one side in thought.
“Ah, and now you’re wondering why your death belongs to my Chosen, aren’t you? No, I’m not a mind-reader. I can see the questions in your eyes. But you already know the answer.”
“What answer?” Sarn’s mind was reeling from all this.
“Well? Have you figured it out yet?”
Sarn opened his mouth to say no, and that was when the answer sucker punched him. “The promise.”
“Yes. You traded your life for another, and the owner of that promise passed it on to his subordinate who passed it on to my Chooser of the Slain. Your life belongs to him and also to me. And I don’t choose to take it right now. My Marksman may decide otherwise though.”
Nolo turned suddenly and snatched a matte black bow out of the air as it shivered into existence as if called. His back bristled with arrows. Gone was the black quiver. Oh Fate, my master is Death’s quiver. And No
lo was reaching over his shoulder to replace the first arrow. His hand, which had so often reached out offering aid, now lowered seeking another shaft growing out of his back—a different death.
For someone else or for me? Another tear fell. This time for his master—a good man with a deadly calling and an even deadlier master of his own. You and I are both indentured. Me to you and you to Death. But only one of them had a fair master. I’m truly sorry for ever giving you a hard time.
“Perhaps I spoke too soon. Perhaps I will collect your soul tonight.” Death bobbed up on its toes excited by the possibility.
“Why do you want my soul so badly? What’s so different about it?”
Sarn was running out of time, but if he could keep Death talking, maybe an opportunity for escape would present itself, not for him, but for his son. Ran was still free to act, but oh fate, he must be terrified by all this.
“Many things, like the bond to your half-angelic sister and the magic in your soul.”
Death’s hunger was growing again. It was like standing too close to a fire. He felt the burn, but when he tried to move, his muscles locked up again as Death’s spell clamped down hard on his body, immobilizing him where he stood.
“Mostly the magic you bear. Variants of white magic are so rare among mortals, but your son may grow up and have an even rarer kind.” Death spun on its heel and whisked the cloth away from the cart.
Meanwhile, Nolo aimed at something in the corridor leading into this intersection. Was he keeping watch to ensure that aforementioned help didn’t arrive? Sovvan, if you can hear me, I really need your help. There was still no reply.
The sound of cloth rustling as Death piled it on top of the cart was too loud in the sudden quiet. It shot a bolt of fear through Sarn’s heart, and he couldn’t breathe. Leave my son alone, he tried to say but the words landed in a confusing tangle of fear on his tongue. Not a sound escaped because he could not open his mouth. Death had sealed his lips with a magic unlike anything he’d ever encountered, but he hadn’t encountered much magic outside of his own brand.
Curse Breaker: Sundered Page 15
