Authors: Leslie Ann Moore
Sonoe reached into the front of her tunic and withdrew the black stone that served as her link to the Nameless One. She closed her eyes and let her mind relax and open. She felt for the strand of energy that connected the stone to its source and sent her consciousness winging along it.
When she pierced the icy black curtain that shrouded the astral space where the Nameless One existed, she called out to him.
I have found the portal, Master!
The Nameless One’s anger surged along the link and smote Sonoe’s mind.
Your incompetence has kept me waiting! Your screams of agony will be sweet when I punish you!
Flames erupted all around Sonoe, engulfing her in smoke and the stench of burning flesh. Horrified, she watched as her skin blackened and withered against her bones. She opened her mouth to scream, but never got the chance as she felt herself sucked into darkness.
~~~
She landed hard on her side, skin scraping against stone. The bone-chilling cold dealt her shrinking body yet another blow, and for a few precarious moments, she could do nothing but lie on the brutal stone and gasp for breath.
Total darkness engulfed her, but even though denied the use of her eyes, she had her other senses, and they all screamed warnings of eminent mortal danger.
Some
thing
waited, crouched in the dark—something ancient and unspeakably evil—and Sonoe knew without a doubt that it could see her perfectly well.
Slowly, she rolled over and levered herself onto her knees. A quick mental assessment of her body revealed no serious injuries.
So. The flames were an illusion.
Fighting the shivers that wracked her body, she conjured a magelight and looked around her.
Sonoe found herself on the floor of what appeared to be a natural cave. She sent the magelight shooting up to illuminate the many teeth of rock that hung from the high ceiling, then brought it swooping down in lazy circles to cast light into nooks and crannies too numerous to count. All the while, she remained acutely aware of the entity that lurked just beyond her sight, watching.
Climbing to her feet, Sonoe pushed her tangled mass of hair out of her face and waited, the magelight hovering at her right shoulder. The foul presence of the Nameless One seemed to exist everywhere at once, and yet Sonoe could sense a distinct vortex of particular intensity in the shadows to her left. She turned to face that direction and watched as the shadows coalesced into something more solid.
As a trained sorceress and Kirian Society member, Sonoe knew better than to relax her shields in the stronghold of her master. Though the attack that had brought her here had taken her by surprise, she would not make the same mistake again.
The Nameless One lashed out, his polluted energy pummeling her from all sides. She withstood its corrosive force, but just barely.
Will I have the strength to do this? He’s so much more powerful than I’d thought!
Breath harsh with strain, she cried out, “Master, please stop!”
Give me one good reason why I should not burn you to ash where you stand, whore!
“Because then I cannot deliver to you that which I promised!”
She could feel herself weakening.
I can’t take much more of this!
“The plan is set,” she gasped. “The Kirians will gather in three weeks time to perform the Sundering! I…I…” No longer able to talk and resist the Nameless One at the same time, Sonoe threw up her hands and frantically traced a sigil in the air before her in a last, desperate attempt to stop the onslaught.
Abruptly, the attack ceased. Sonoe stumbled backward, slipped on a loose stone and went down, turning her ankle as she fell. Pain, sharp and hot, surged up her leg, wringing a soft moan from deep within her chest. The sound of grinding metal filled the air around her. A bitter curse dropped from her lips.
“You enjoy my pain!” she hissed, breathing hard. A quick mental probe of her ankle confirmed that she had only sprained it.
Thank the Goddess!
The deeper darkness that was the material manifestation of the Nameless One floated closer until it hung over Sonoe like a storm cloud, the two baleful red stars that served as eyes staring down at her.
Of course I enjoy your pain, slut. I enjoy pain in all of its many forms, but yours is especially sweet. I shall have you writhing in a moment, but before my pleasure comes business. Tell me of the plan…
Sonoe told him everything…except the part about her counter-plan, which she kept hidden within the special vault of her mind that no one, not even the Nameless One, could penetrate. Gritting her teeth, she then steeled herself to endure the spirit’s vile assault on her body for the last time. When he had finished and had flung her, bruised and bloody, back through the portal, she lay for a long time on the cold dirt floor, unmoving.
The storm is coming!
She climbed to her feet and stood for a few heartbeats, staring at nothing, listening to the voice in her head whispering, whispering…
The storm is coming!
The voice of her inner self.
You must be ready!
“I will ride the whirlwind,” Sonoe murmured aloud, then threw back her head and laughed in triumph.
A Reason To Live
Jelena
, Ashinji cried, or would have if he’d had a voice to cry with.
She did not, could not, hear him.
A man—young, dark-haired and dressed in the worn leathers of a veteran soldier—stood beside her. His lips moved but Ashinji couldn’t make out what he said. Jelena moved closer and he gathered her into an embrace that bespoke of emotions much stronger than friendship. She lifted her face and their lips touched in a brief kiss. The man smiled and, taking Jelena by the hand, led her away. A thick, gray curtain of fog coalesced around the two of them as they receded into the distance.
Jelena, I love you! Please…wait for me!
Despair, like a wild thing, tore through Ashinji, leaving in its wake the realization that his wife—his best friend and the love of his life—had moved on without him.
Ashiiiinjii!
Was that his name he heard, or simply the keening of the wind?
Ashinji, come baaaack!
The sound kindled a spark of recognition in his sluggish consciousness. He knew that voice and he knew he should heed its command, but along that way lay pain, terrible pain. So much easier just to drift…
Ashiiinjii! Pleeese, come baaack, nooow!
Ashinji shivered with annoyance, or would have if he’d had a body to shiver with.
Leave me alone…I don’t want to go back! Why should I? There’s nothing left for me now. Better to stay in this soothing grayness…
The fog dissolved and Jelena once again stood before him, dressed in a long gown of red silk, holding a baby in her arms. She lifted the child over her head, laughing.
The vision struck at Ashinji’s frozen emotions, releasing them in a dizzying rush.
This baby Jelena cradled in her arms must be the child he had to leave behind a lifetime ago. What terrible sorrow Jelena must have suffered, giving birth to their child, all the while believing him dead! Should not the child they had made together have both of its parents to raise it?
Ashiiinjii!
He turned and moved toward the sound of his name.
~~~
Awareness returned slowly, and the unintelligible noises buzzing in his ears resolved into muted voices, discussing his condition.
“Look at his eyes. They’re moving.”
“Yes…I believe you’re right. Gran! Come quickly! I think he’s waking up!”
Ashi, can you hear me?
Mindspeech.
He recognized the voice that had called to him, imploring him to return and not lose himself forever in the gray fog between the worlds.
With tremendous effort, he opened his eyes.
“Ashi, praise the One! You’re awake.”
Ashinji struggled to focus eyes that had seen no use in several days. Gran’s face floated above him, looking pale and haggard, but clearly relieved.
Confusion washed over him. “Wha…what…h…h…happened?” he croaked. He attempted to sit up, but a combination of pain and weakness thwarted him.
“You don’t remember, Ashi?” Gran stroked his cheek. “You’ve been hurt. Stabbed. You’ve been unconscious for days; you very nearly died.”
Stabbed! When?
The last thing he clearly remembered was walking into the weapons shed. After that, things got hazy.
“I…don’t…can’t…” It took a big effort to speak. His tongue felt clumsy and thick, like a chunk of wood in his mouth.
“What’s he saying, Gran?”
That voice belonged to Seijon.
“He’s speaking in Siri-dar, and you would understand if you’d ever made an effort to learn!” Gran’s voice was sharp. “I don’t think he remembers what has happened.”
Ashinji struggled to pull together the fragments of memory that spun like dark motes before his minds’ eye.
I went to the weapons shed to put away some practice equipment… Something…no, someone attacked me there!
Images of a violent confrontation flashed to the surface, then with the abruptness of a dam giving way, all the memories of those terrible few moments, all the rage, the fear, and most of all, the sensation of the knife as it bit deep into his flesh, returned in a rush.
“Ai, Goddess!” he groaned. “L…Leal…st…stabbed me!”
“You do remember,” Gran said. “Ashi, let the memory go for now. Put it out of your mind. There’ll be plenty of time to deal with it later. You need to rest. Sleep, now.”
Sleep…that sounds wonderful. I’ll sleep, yes.
He closed his eyes.
~~~
When next he woke, the golden light of late afternoon filled the infirmary. He blinked rapidly to clear his vision and saw Seijon, perched on the foot of the bed, arms wrapped around knees drawn up under his chin, eyes closed. He looked like he was asleep.
“Seijon,” Ashinji whispered. The boy’s eyes flew open and widened with excitement.
“Ashi!” he cried, scrambling to the head of the bed where he flung his arms around Ashinji in a joyful embrace. Ashinji grunted in pain but slowly raised his arms to draw the boy closer.
“I’ve been so scared you’d die and leave me, Ashi,” Seijon mumbled against his neck.
For a few heartbeats, Ashinji felt too overcome to speak. Not until this moment had he realized his depth of feeling for this boy. This was the love between brothers that he had been denied with his own treacherous sibling.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere without you,” he whispered.
“Get off, monkey! You’re hurting him!”
Gran materialized at Ashinji’s bedside, arms sweeping the air before her as if she were attempting to shoo off an especially persistent pest. She glared at Seijon, but Ashinji could see the veiled amusement in her pale eyes.
“No, Gran, he’s not hurting me,” Ashinji lied. Gran cocked her head, disbelief writ plain on her face, but she refrained from comment. Instead, she poked Seijon in the ribs and pointed to the foot of the bed. Reluctantly, the boy loosed his hold and retreated to his former position where he flopped down, cross-legged, chin in hand.
“How are you feeling, Ashi?” Gran inquired, speaking Siri-dar as she always did when there were no humans present.
“Tired…very tired, and sore. Leal obviously did a lot of damage.” Ashinji paused, reluctant to ask the question uppermost in his mind, but he needed to know. “Leal…is he…?”
“Leal is dead,” Gran stated flatly. “And no, you didn’t kill him.” Her lips pressed together in a thin line. “I don’t know the whole truth of the matter, but I believe the mistress had him executed.”
“Shit!” Ashinji muttered.
“In case you’re feeling some sort of misguided guilt, young man, remember that Leal was a sadistic killer who hated our kind and preyed on those too weak to defend themselves.” She glanced pointedly at Seijon.
“I’m not sorry he’s dead, Gran,” Ashinji countered. “I’m just sorry it happened the way it did.”
Gran spent a few moments fussing with his blankets. He lay back and let her, knowing she did it more for her comfort than his. He felt as weak and helpless as a newborn—a sensation he thoroughly disliked.
“Gran, when I was unconscious, I think I dreamed you were calling to me, pleading with me to return. I also dreamed I saw Jelena.”
“Those were not dreams, Ashi. I did call to you. As for you seeing your wife, I’m not surprised. It’s very common for those wandering the plane of spirit to seek out loved ones, especially if there has been a separation on the material plane.”
“I saw her twice. The first time, she was with another man. I could see they had feelings for each other.”
“I’m so sorry,” Gran murmured.
“No, I understand, Gran. Jelena has accepted my death and has moved on with her life. I would want her to do just that. She’s too young to spend the rest of her life alone. It hurt, though…”
He fell silent for a time, eyes closed, meditating on the perversity of his fortunes. “I saw her again,” he continued. “She held a baby—our baby—in her arms.” He smiled. “Seeing my child for the first time…that’s what made me want to come back, Gran.”