Authors: Steven Montano
Soulrazor (28 page)
You will stop this. You will keep the sword out of its hands.
Soulrazor,
he says, to let it know he understands.
he says, to let it know he understands.
Soulrazor. It is a lost vestige of The Black, a shard of the substance that once broke through the dome between worlds. It is the substance of a black world, a foreign realm of darkness and pain, oblivion and endless cold.
Its invasion shifted realities, re-crafted Earth and fused it with other realms.
The Sleeper is an aspect of that darkness, a vestige captured long ago by the Pale Goddess. She is charged with protecting this realm from The Black, the void that waits beyond the edge of existence.
Soulrazor is more powerful than The Sleeper. It is pure: not a manifestation of that dark energy, but the energy itself.
It does not belong here,
the Soulweaver explains
. Its presence has remained on the outskirts of your reality for some time, but now an avatar of the Pale Goddess wishes to escape her own fate by finding the sword. She believes that doing so will set the balance right and return The Black to its realm. She is wrong.
the Soulweaver explains
. Its presence has remained on the outskirts of your reality for some time, but now an avatar of the Pale Goddess wishes to escape her own fate by finding the sword. She believes that doing so will set the balance right and return The Black to its realm. She is wrong.
He stares through a coiled vortex. He sees the mire of molten realities, the purging flames of black perdition as they spread across a pulsing landscape. Cold explosions petrify the sky and cast it to the ground like shattered stone.
How can she even exist?
he wonders. How can the Pale Goddess have so many avatars…
he wonders. How can the Pale Goddess have so many avatars…
That cannot be known. Not yet. For now, keep Soulrazor out of her hands, and out of The Sleeper’s grasp. If you do that…we will help you.
He knows there must be some reason why they can’t do it themselves. Maybe they’ve waited for him…maybe this is what he was always meant to do. If he was in junction with time, he imagines he would see a white spider crawl across his path.
Darkness leaks from his soul and falls to the ground like shadow rain. Daylight cuts through the clouds and sears him, slices into his unstable flesh like sunbeam knives.
His body solidifies and regains form. Color returns to his skin. He sloughs off shadows.
His vision clears. His heart races faster.
His feet leave the ground, and he hovers in place over the wine-dark landscape. He is a stationary beacon, a floating monument over the shifting earth.
Like the Soulweaver, he is brighter than the landscape. He radiates life and power. He is solid in a sea of rippling uncertainties.
The serpent laces the disparate shreds of his body together. He is frogged and undone, then re-knit into a stable pattern. The threads of his soul are tightly wound before they are spun back into something less burdened by shadow. Blades of light form around his wrists and join them to the threads of his spirit, who he had thought lost, or at least incapable of reaching him here.
She is frightened and exhausted. It has been so long since they have been together. For a time he forgets she is not his…not really. He mistakes her for the spirit he grew up with, and later, when he realizes his error, he hopes he has not given her insult.
You are ready.
What do I do?
he asks.
he asks.
Stop the woman,
the Soulweaver explains
. Stop The Sleeper. Don’t let them get Soulrazor. They each want it for their own ends, but in either one of their hands it will cause irreparable damage.
the Soulweaver explains
. Stop The Sleeper. Don’t let them get Soulrazor. They each want it for their own ends, but in either one of their hands it will cause irreparable damage.
How? How can I stop them?
You are stable,
the serpent says,
but that will not last. The darkness inside you has been subdued, but it is still
there
. It will grow, and it will destroy you…but if you keep Soulrazor out of their hands, only
you
will have to die.
the serpent says,
but that will not last. The darkness inside you has been subdued, but it is still
there
. It will grow, and it will destroy you…but if you keep Soulrazor out of their hands, only
you
will have to die.
Why are you doing this?
he asks.
he asks.
He sinks into the earth. He falls through the ground as if it were cloud. Dark bolts of lightning strike across the zenith of the impossible sky.
Because
, it says,
we do not wish to see our work undone.
, it says,
we do not wish to see our work undone.
He sees the mountain. It is jet stone embalmed in hoarfrost. A dark copse of grim trees stands encased in translucent ice. He feels the dead wind, and it carries voices. His feet sink into the mire as leaves fall and cover the ground.
Could she be there? He knows she cannot.
And yet she
is
. He would know her anywhere. She is there in the trees, her hair tossed in a wind filled with crystal rain. She walks barefoot in the churning waters. Her skin is lunar pale, and delicate.
is
. He would know her anywhere. She is there in the trees, her hair tossed in a wind filled with crystal rain. She walks barefoot in the churning waters. Her skin is lunar pale, and delicate.
The distance closes between them. He steps through the membranes of time, and falls into the past. He will not be there long.
She puts her hand to his face. He knows he can’t stay there with her, as she is long dead. What he sees is real, but it’s not where he is meant to be.
I love you.
She smiles. Warmth spills through him.
He falls up and into the sky. Air rushes through his fingers as he reaches for her, but she shrinks away. He flies, inverted, feet first toward the brick red sun. He will never see her again.
His new spirit rejoins him as he ascends, and they vanish back into the unstable folds of time. It will be his last chance to set things right.
He comes, once again, to the curtain wall. It’s not until he settles onto his feet that he feels the tears in his eyes. He wipes them away with hands covered in soot. Skin turned black with grime is reflected back at him from a puddle of dank and oily water. Obsidian catapult stones have been stacked nearby, and grim gargoyles loom overhead. Dim pyres burn in braziers set aside the wide walls. Dark crenellations protrude over a sea of mist and salt.
Silhouettes move in the shadows. He smells the taint of unnatural magic and corrupted souls.
Jennar is close. The Sleeper moves towards him with purpose. It knows he has changed, and that its plans must change accordingly. It will force him to die at the place of its choosing.
I’ll beat you. I’ll die on my own terms, you son of a bitch.
With grim resolve and a heart filled with regret, Cross draws his blade, and moves towards the tower.
PART THREE
RAIN
FIFTEEN
SHADOWMERE
She falls through folds of black ichor. She sees the sea, and the keep. Waves crash against the grim beach.
She sinks up to her knees in silt and sand. Thick folds of seaweed tangle and grab at her.
The keep is in ruins. It looks as if it has been cleaved in two by some preposterous blade. Stone shards and steel debris dangle like tree limbs into churning waters.
She pulls herself free of the grimy beach and steps onto a stony shore. The dark stone wall looms above her, and seems to bear some malevolent intent. She hears something through the walls, a distant song like the voice of the forlorn sea.
She sees a black ship. It sails in the distance, frozen against a pale sun that sinks like ice into the horizon. A lone figure stands at the bow, and he desperately holds onto the deck railing as the waves grow violent and the sky bleeds dark.
The others are there with her. They are incorporeal at first, just shades, and she only knows them by their outlines, by the arcane signatures of their heartbeats. Her spirit wraps tightly around her, and the heat of his presence makes her solid. Shadows fall from her skin like ebon scales and float away on the dead breeze.
She looks at the ship, at the crumbling black sky, and she knows she has seen this before, that she has
been
here before…and that she will be here again.
been
here before…and that she will be here again.
The sky cracks and falls like brittle waves of melting crystal. Piece by piece, the ruined keep rebuilds itself. Chunks of mortar slide back into place. Rebar and iron crenellations twist together like metal serpents. Lost stones and shards of wood emerge from the water and fall into perfect position as the structure rebuilds itself.
A scene of destruction rewinds. The darkness builds and then lessens. The sky turns from black to red. Everything twists. The team takes shape out of the darkness and step onto the shore of this reconstructed reality, this past version of a place that stands outside of time.
Danica felt like she’d been adrift in the sky for days. The notion of solid ground seemed a distant memory, and she nearly fell over.
Everyone was there. Kane and Ronan helped Ash to her feet, and Maur grumbled and complained in the third person as he dusted himself off. They were all covered in flecks of black dust and soot. Iron mists surrounded them.
They walked on thick blocks of mortar embalmed in grease ice. The curtain wall before them was easily wide enough to land a pair of Bloodhawks side-by-side. The parapets were covered in dark blades made of steel and stone. Siege weapons from a lost age, catapults and ballistae and trebuchets, stood unmanned. The devices looked like they’d gone unused for centuries.
Danica shivered. Her breath crystallized and fell, and even with her spirit wrapped around her body her skin felt brittle from the cold.
“
Ok, I give up,” Kane said. “Where the hell are we?”
Ok, I give up,” Kane said. “Where the hell are we?”
“
Not only
where
,” Ash said as she turned in a circle. “But
when
?”
Not only
where
,” Ash said as she turned in a circle. “But
when
?”
“
What?!” Kane said, disbelieving.
What?!” Kane said, disbelieving.
“
Shadowmere Keep,” Ronan said. “We’re in the past, before it was ruined.”
Shadowmere Keep,” Ronan said. “We’re in the past, before it was ruined.”
Shadowmere. One of the first vampire bastions from early in the war, Shadowmere fell to the human armies of Ath, and it was believed its destruction was one of the reasons the vampires turned to the more advanced Bonespire structures.
Danica looked closely at the black mortar and stone spikes. Dust between the blocks of stone was frozen. This place hadn’t been used in decades, or longer.
“
No,” she said. “This is similar to Shadowmere, but it’s a replica.” She turned around and sent her spirit to scout the surrounding area. The arcane fog was filled with spectral detritus, the discarded firmament of lost souls congealed in roiling night smoke. That atmosphere grew thin beyond the veil of shadow mist, and there were boundaries to the reality. “We’re not even on Earth. We’re somewhere else, some quasi-dimension.”
No,” she said. “This is similar to Shadowmere, but it’s a replica.” She turned around and sent her spirit to scout the surrounding area. The arcane fog was filled with spectral detritus, the discarded firmament of lost souls congealed in roiling night smoke. That atmosphere grew thin beyond the veil of shadow mist, and there were boundaries to the reality. “We’re not even on Earth. We’re somewhere else, some quasi-dimension.”
“
Are you going to explain all of this in plain English?” Kane griped.
Are you going to explain all of this in plain English?” Kane griped.
The team used the wrecked siege weapons for cover as they advanced along the wall.
“
During The Black, we know that Earth was fused with other worlds,” Ash explained. Her spirit had taken the form of a shimmering scimitar that fixed itself to her forearm and dripped caustic jade heat. “We also know that lots of pieces of those worlds were…lost.”
During The Black, we know that Earth was fused with other worlds,” Ash explained. Her spirit had taken the form of a shimmering scimitar that fixed itself to her forearm and dripped caustic jade heat. “We also know that lots of pieces of those worlds were…lost.”
“
Ok,” Kane said. He aimed his M4 forward and covered Ronan while the swordsman ran up and ducked behind a chunk of broken stones. The two men stayed at point, while Black, Maur and Ash brought up the rear.
Ok,” Kane said. He aimed his M4 forward and covered Ronan while the swordsman ran up and ducked behind a chunk of broken stones. The two men stayed at point, while Black, Maur and Ash brought up the rear.
“
Well, just because they were lost doesn’t mean they ceased to exist,” Ash said plainly. When Kane gave her a puzzled look, she opened her hands and indicated their surroundings. “Here we are.”
Well, just because they were lost doesn’t mean they ceased to exist,” Ash said plainly. When Kane gave her a puzzled look, she opened her hands and indicated their surroundings. “Here we are.”
“
Great. We’re in the Twilight Zone.”
Great. We’re in the Twilight Zone.”
“
Something like that,” Ash smiled. “The Tome of Scars refers to them as The Fold. They’re like lost mini-realities, places only tangentially connected to our world.”
Something like that,” Ash smiled. “The Tome of Scars refers to them as The Fold. They’re like lost mini-realities, places only tangentially connected to our world.”
“
Sure,” Kane nodded.
Sure,” Kane nodded.
They moved another hundred meters. There was no enemy contact, nor any indication of where they needed to go. It occurred to Black they also had no idea how they’d leave, if leaving even became an option.
Where are you, Eric?
She chanced a glance over the side of the wall. The air was so thick with blue-grey smoke and mist the keep might as well have floated in the sky. Vapors twisted and clung unnaturally to the stone. Deep and monstrous calls sounded in the distance, the cries of alien birds stranded in the void of smoke. The air was stiff and quiet.
Kane kicked a chunk of rock into the open air and leaned over to watch it fall. It vanished in the mist like without a sound. He frowned, and they carried on.
Black was nagged by a sense this had happened already. She felt that same mental fog that had bothered her ever since they’d left Thornn. Something about all of this seemed too familiar, a sense of déjà vu far too uncanny and unnerving to be dismissed.
Other books
Five Get Into a Fix by Enid Blyton
Sinful by Carolyn Faulkner
Castillo's Fiery Texas Rose by Berkley, Tessa
Illegal Liaisons by Grazyna Plebanek
Cold Justice by Lee Weeks
Deeper Than The Dead by Hoag, Tami
Rotten to the Core by Kelleher, Casey
Corrective Treatment by Loki Renard
The Beauty and the Beast by Leigh Wilder
Rising Fire by TERRI BRISBIN
