Curse: The Dark God Book 2 (21 page)

Sugar’s excitement rose. The soul might have seen her mother and father, might have news. It might lead her to them.

There was a small path next to the creek that ran at the bottom of the hollow. Withers and Urban descended with the horses and turned onto the trail, but Sugar didn’t wait for her body of flesh. She ran ahead.

The thing following them had paced her, but it now stopped, then began to move away at speed. A moment later something grunted and growled in the distance. She reached out with her senses. There were other living things about, but none of them felt far enough away to be associated with the growl, so she decided to continue to move forward.She was now some distance ahead of Withers and Urban. With the bends in the trail she’d lost sight of them, but she could still hear them with her body. She continued for maybe a hundred yards along the trail, came to the edge of a clearing, and stopped.

A number of bodies lay about the grass. There were a few goats, but also the bodies of a man and a boy. The man was alive, but mortally wounded in his leg and belly. The boy was clearly dead, two arrows sticking from his chest.

The man stroked the hair of the boy’s body of flesh and wept, oblivious to the half-dozen frights that had latched onto him, the body of his boy, and the goats. The frights were twisted like driftwood, knobby and misshapen, their many fingers split and spread like the pale roots of a plant, sinking into their victims. Each was as long as her arm. They grunted as they fed.

The soul of the boy yelled and charged the fright clinging to his father.

The fright turned menacingly, and the boy aborted his attack.

She described the scene to Withers. “Should I chase the frights off?”

“Patience. Do you hear a clicking?”

“No.”

“That means the ayten haven’t found them yet.”

Ayten, Withers had said earlier, were orangish skir that fed on souls. “I did hear an awful growl earlier, but it was in the distance.”

“I think it’s time to come back,” said Withers.

The soul of the boy charged again. This time he kicked at one fright and sent it scurrying away, but another fright turned on him, and he backed away. The man groaned and slumped to one side.

“Da,” the boy said and dropped to his knees weeping.

A beat passed and something began to emerge from the man’s mouth. Sugar watched in horror as his soul pulled itself out of his body.

“Da?” the boy asked.

The soul of the man pulled the last part of himself out and stood before his son.

At that moment, a howl rose at the far end of the field. The souls of the dead goats there panicked and ran. A dark beast shot out of the trees and chased them. It was followed by another. And then four more. The creatures were angular and long-limbed like nightmare versions of whippets or greyhounds. They had no tails. Instead, short spikes ran down their backs. One howled. It was the howl she’d heard before. And she realized she’d felt the presence a few minutes ago but hadn’t been paying attention to them.

The frights looked up, then broke from the bodies and scurried away into the woods.

Two of the beasts stopped to tear into the goats, but the rest spied the boy and the soul of the man.

“Run!” the father yelled, then grabbed his son’s hand and sprinted for the woods. But Sugar could see they weren’t going to be fast enough. And where would they go anyway?

Sugar held the blackspine in her hand. She described the beasts to Withers. “What do I do?”

“Come back,” said Withers.

“I can’t just leave them.”

“Come back!” Withers commanded.

The dark nightmare whippets sprang onto the boy, taking him down. He screamed in agony. Two others fell upon the father.

Sugar took a step forward blackspine in hand, hesitated, but it was clear she was too late. Then one of the dark creatures spotted her.

Fear shot through her.

“Sugar!” Withers said.

“I’m coming,” she said and backed away.

The creature moved forward.

Sugar turned and fled, running faster than she ever could in the flesh. The dark creature howled and raced after her, angling through the trees.

Back upon the horse, her body tried to rise to its feet.

“Sugar!” Urban shouted. “Talk to us.”

But she was too busy to talk. The spiked beast rushed through the woods. Sugar ran, leapt, raced back down the trail. She tried to release her body from the saddle, to run to her soul, but her fingers fumbled at the ties holding her in the saddle. She tried opening her eyes briefly. The double vision disoriented her, and she almost ran into a tree.

“Bring my body!” she said with the mouth of her flesh. “Down the path!”

She fled around a bend, and this time she did careen into the trunk of a tree and sank partway into the wood. The impact hurt and she realized, again, that soul was mortal. She wrenched herself out, scrabbled back up to right herself, but the miscalculation had cost her. There was no way she’d make it back to her body now. However, as she charged down the trail, Urban appeared around a corner ahead, leading the horse with her body. Withers hurried behind, trying to keep up.

“I’m here!” she said. “I’m here!” Four long strides and she reached the horse. Just as she did, the hideous whippet burst onto the trail behind her.

Her body strained against its bindings, and she leapt upon the horse and tried to enter her flesh, but couldn’t.

Panic flooded her.

Then she realized she was wearing the skenning. She couldn’t inhabit two bodies at the same time. And she didn’t have time to take it off.

She spun around.

The whippet howled, raced toward her. It did not have a mouth like a dog, but more like a lamprey.

She faced it, held her blackspine in front of her. Just as the horrible thing leapt, she lunged. The blackspine sank deep into its body. The whippet writhed and cried out. Its brothers back with the souls of the man and boy answered.

Sugar pulled the blackspine out and stabbed the thing again and again. It fell to the earth and writhed.

She turned back to her body and shed the skenning. The other whippets raced through the trees toward her.

Withers had finally caught up, panting.

“Where do I put it?” she said with the mouth of her body.

“Put what?” Urban replied.

“The skenning?”

“Here,” Withers said and opened the copper box. She stuffed it in. Then she jumped up behind where her body sat on the horse. The creatures galloped through the woods. She fastened one clasp of the strap she wore on her body around the blackspine, then tried to slip into her body as she’d done before, but she could not.

Then she remembered she’d closed her doors. She opened them and stepped into her body. Outside her body, the approaching whippets howled. She slammed her doors shut, then remembered Urban saying weaves make an opening. It was how they worked. Which meant that even though she was shut, it could be a weakness. The howls rose to a pitch, and she untied the necklace and tore it from her.

Immediately, the awful vision and noise vanished. Moments later a chill slid past her. And another, then they were gone, and there was nothing but the blue-hued world of the flesh, Urban standing next to her, the creek burbling to the side.

“Merciful lords,” she said.

“What happened?” Urban asked.

“Howlers,” said Withers.

“We need to get out of here,” she said.

“You’re safe now,” Withers said. “There is no need to panic. You are safe in the fortress of your flesh.”

“What happened?” Urban asked again.

“It was horrible,” she said. “Horrible.”

“They took the man and boy, didn’t they?” Withers asked.

“They ripped them apart.”

Withers rubbed his knuckles slowly. “It is a beautiful world. A perilous world. I think your first lesson is now complete. You did well, ferret. Very well.”

She thought about the man and boy. “Nobody came for them,” she said. There were no ancestors guarding them. None to bring them to safety. She thought about her own mother and father. Had anyone come for them?

“You need to be smoked,” said Withers. “Then we’ll talk.”

“And I’ll send someone back to investigate the deaths,” said Urban. “It was probably a Fir-Noy raid.”

They traveled the rest of the way back to the shack in silence. Along the way she realized being apart from herself had strained her and that merging back into her flesh brought a relaxing comfort.

When they got back to the shack, they found Soddam still sitting on his stump. She dismounted and followed Withers and Urban into the shack. She said, “I knew the stories about the perilous journey in the world of souls. But they were all stories.”

“Not the same as witnessing it firsthand,” said Withers, “is it?” He retrieved a godsweed braid and laid it on the embers in the hearth.

“Do you think those horrid creatures followed us?”

“They might have,” he said. He retrieved the braid and began to wave it about. “Sometimes walking attracts attention. It’s always wise to burn a little godsweed afterwards.”

“I should have helped that man and boy,” she said.

“You weren’t ready,” he said. “You would have fallen.”

“I should have tried.”

“Not everyone can be saved,” he said. “A Walker has to reconcile himself to that fact.”

She knew his words made logical sense, but that didn’t mean they felt right. The images of the man and boy being torn by those howlers filled her mind. “Dear Creators, where were the ancestors?”

Withers said nothing.

Urban said, “With more skill, you will be able to do more in the world of souls. Maybe next time you can help. But first you have to learn. I told you I don’t compel any of my men. I think you now know the nature of your work. And its risks. Are you still in?”

Everyone in Shim’s army took risks. Her fellow candidates needed a spy. If she could increase their odds of victory, she’d be a coward not to do this thing. “Of course I’m in,” Sugar said.

Urban smiled. “Purity’s daughter indeed.”

“There you go again,” Sugar said.

“She was part of my father’s Grove. She did not bind herself to weak thinking.”

Sugar smiled. No, Mother never did.

“She came here as one of those traveling to the city of Hope.”

“Yes,” Sugar said, “Matiga told me. When it was time to move on, she realized the promise of a distant city didn’t quite compare with the here and now of a certain smith she’d come to know.”

He nodded. “Exactly. She had her own mind. And a good thing too.”

Sugar knew the story of the trail. The One Root, the leader of all the Groves of Hismayas had led a company into the wilderness here to establish a city where they could practice their arts freely and yet be hidden from the eyes of the world. For a number of years, members of various Groves had secretly traveled to the New Lands. They’d sought out Hogan the Koramite who gave them the directions that would take them to a lake somewhere in the Wilds beyond the borders of the land to wait. Every few weeks or months, someone from the city would come and lead them into the wilderness, never to be heard or seen again. But that had all stopped. No guides had come to the lake in many years. The trail was dead. There was much speculation on what had happened and whether the city had failed or was growing, preparing to reveal itself to the world in power.

“Why do you say it was a good thing she didn’t go?” asked Sugar.

“There are some people who serve the lore. And there are others who let the lore serve them. Your mother didn’t let the Order rule her. She married and found joy in a family.”

“She came to a bad end,” said Sugar. “I don’t know if I’d call that good.”

“Are you telling me that one awful day wiped out everything that had gone before? Your mother lived and loved while she had the chance. She was a great woman. At least, she was when I knew her.”

“She was splendid,” Sugar agreed.

“And you’ll do her proud,” said Urban.

Withers reached out and stroked the end of Sugar’s hair. “How are you feeling, Walker?”

Now that he’d asked, she realized she had a bit of a headache. “A few aches here and there,” she said.

Withers nodded. “Perfectly natural. To be expected. They will go away, but there are some that won’t. If you are ever walking and start feeling real pain, like the very flames of a fire are licking your bones, you run back to your body. You don’t hesitate. Or you may find you can’t get back at all. Do you hear me?”

“I hear,” Sugar said.

“Walking is not for everybody. For some it means death. Remember that.”

“I will.”

“Good,” he said. “Your job now is to practice with the spine. Don’t get cocky after bullying a few frights about. A spine’s good, the skenning helpful, but when you hear the howls or the wicked singing of the ayten, you run back to your body. You run back to the defense of the flesh until you know how to handle such things.”

“I will,” she said.

He rubbed his wrist and said, “You come back to old Withers. There’s no need to fear—I’ll fatten you up, then teach you how to weave a soul cleaver. Great Lords, then you will be a terror in your own right. In the meantime, you need to eat.” He pushed a number of dried biscuits into her pockets. Then he fetched the candied nuts.

She took his food, then climbed back onto the wagon seat next to Urban. They left Withers and the shack. Soddam waved good-bye. She thought she saw another one of Urban’s crew as they rode back to the fortress, but she couldn’t be sure.

When they had ridden a good distance from the shack, Urban said, “So, what do you think about Withers?”

He’d been so kind and patient, like a grandfather, and yet he’d done abominable things. “I don’t know.”

“He was a villain once. But he didn’t need killing, did he?”

She thought on that, then said, “I truly hope not.”

23

Rabbit

BEROSUS NOTICED the man tailing him before he had walked a hundred yards from the fortress. It was one of Eresh’s men.

Shim and Argoth had wanted to give Berosus leadership of a terror, but he didn’t want to be under their eye, so he’d argued that Eresh would only balk and that it would be far better to use him as a spy. As a member of the Hand, not only did he know how Mokad worked, but he also knew the names of various Divines and lesser lords and could recognize them on sight. Furthermore, unlike anyone from the Clans here, his tattoos wouldn’t give him away. His honors had nothing to do with the New Lands, which meant he could pose as a Mokaddian scout and get in close to the enemy.

His argument had convinced Argoth and Shim, and they’d agreed. However, it still didn’t mean they fully trusted him. Argoth, for example, was still wary. Berosus could see it in his eyes. And Eresh, of course, didn’t trust him at all. Still, his role as spy meant he could come and go as he needed, at least for now.

Berosus walked past the fields between the fortress and the village that served it. Shortly after entering the village, he made a number of turns through the houses, outbuildings, and back yards. The man tailing him followed at a discrete distance, and then was replaced by another who was eating what looked like a fine bun of some sort.

Very good
, Berosus thought. He was impressed yet again with these sleth. In fact, if he hadn’t been looking, he would have never noticed the second man, or the man on the porch of the tavern, or the woman out with her cows. There was a whole network of eyes and ears here.

Shim and Argoth had probably alerted them to note the movements of certain people and watch for anything suspicious. The attack on Talen proved they had a breach in their security, and so all eyes and ears would have been ordered to step up their vigilance. Any sleth who had come to join Shim would certainly be on the watch list. It would be the prudent thing to do. There was never any telling what a sleth might be hiding.

So the tail following Berosus wasn’t the result of Eresh acting on his own. It was surely Argoth’s idea as well. But they wouldn’t find out any of his secrets today.

He entered the woods outside the village. The original tail followed, albeit with a different hat and shirt, which anyone with normal senses would have missed.

But Berosus wasn’t your normal dreadman. He wasn’t your normal Divine. He built his Fire and increased his pace. He increased it again. A few strides later, yet again. The woods on either side of him flew past, his lungs taking in far more breath than a normal human’s could. By the time Berosus came to the river, he was two miles ahead of his tail.

Berosus entered the river and swam downstream a few hundred yards. Then he exited through some willows on the far side and disappeared into the woods beyond. The tail would spend an hour here, going up and down the banks. By the time he found a trail, if he found one at all, Berosus would be beyond catching.

* * *

A few hours later Berosus waited by a small secluded waterfall in the woods savoring a small basket of blueberries as his captain reported that the army would arrive on the morrow. There would be more than a hundred ships, almost fifty thousand normal troops, a few thousand dreadmen, plus dogmen, plus his Skir Masters.

A whole army was descending upon this land, and Argoth was back at the fortress trying to force the last of his candidates. It made Berosus smile.

The captain finished his report, and they discussed other plans and tasks, which the captain would need to fulfill. Then they waited for Nashrud. His dog appeared first. It wasn’t a big mastiff, but a smaller hound, black and brown with a salting of white hairs. It had one brown eye and one that was pale blue, both of which looked at you with far too much intelligence. The dog padded down to the waterfall, sniffed about, then sat on its haunches and looked squarely at Berosus. Normal dogs avoided prolonged eye-contact. This one did not, but that was to be expected with Nashrud. He was more Divine than dreadman, and his powers focused along one track.

Moments later Nashrud appeared, coming through the trees.

When he was close, Berosus held out the small basket of blueberries. “They’re quite good.” Nashrud took two and ate them without question as Berosus knew he would, but he did not show any delight. Nashrud was a hard man. An excellent servant. He enjoyed his animals and red meat and the thrill of the hunt, but he didn’t betray much emotion.

“We have the rabbit’s location,” said Nashrud. His scar stood out in the muted light of the woods. It ran from the top of his forehead, cleaved his eyebrow, and continued down his cheek to the corner of his mouth.

Berosus said, “You’ve confirmed this with human eyes?”

“The Holy One and his sister are hiding at a farm close to the mountains. All we await is your command.”

The water burbled across the rocks. The autumn leaves had begun to fall, and the whole woods smelled of leaf mold. It was delicious.

“Secure him,” said Berosus.

“And what of the sister?”

“If she dies, it won’t be a troubling loss. The fledgling Glory is the main thing.”

Nashrud inclined his head. “The rabbit will be in your hands by breakfast tomorrow.”

* * *

Miles away, in the barn of the Koramite farmer Len and his wife Tinker, Talen sat down upon a milking stool. On the dark wooden platter between River and him lay a duck, two squares of soft pumpkin, and a number of small apples, all of which had been roasted to perfection.

Talen said, “The whole time in that barrel I was thinking we’d be laying up in some nasty cave or wet, mosquito-infested knoll in the swamps. I thought we’d be eating snakes and squirrels. But I believe we’re going to eat better here in Len’s barn than we did back at the fortress.”

River said, “A cave or knoll would have meant Uncle would have had to supply sentries, and that would have attracted attention.”

“True,” Talen said and carved off a piece of the duck’s breast with his knife. Len had many children and grandchildren. Two more bodies wouldn’t attract attention. And with so many, he’d been able to position a number of these to watch the ways to the farm. Talen bit into the piece of meat. It was moist and seasoned. “He used salt,” he said with delight.

“Len and Uncle go way back,” said River. “You be sure to show your gratitude.” Then she picked up a square of pumpkin and ate some of the flesh with her knife.

Talen’s craving, to his incredible relief, had diminished over the last few hours. He didn’t know why, and he didn’t care.

He said, “This is a good hiding place, but there’s going to come a time when we have to face the servants of the Devourers.”

“Even when you’re as strong as Da or Ke, there will be times when running is the best option.”

“The day’s coming when I will hunt
them
.”

River smiled. “When you can beat your sister, then you can talk about hunting. In fact, I think this barn will make a fine spot for some hard lore work.”

“You underestimate me,” said Talen.

“Finish your duck, and we’ll see who’s the one doing the underestimating.”

* * *

High above Len’s farm two hooded crows circled and watched the landscape below them. There was the bright river, the dead badger they so very much wanted to descend and eat, and the barn that hid the two humans.