Chapter Twenty #4

shrapnel. When he looked again, the bank of devices was gone, leaving only a

deep, ruptured hole in the stone, like the caldera of a volcano. A spew of

souls erupted from the depths of the pyramid. Thousands of beings gushed from

the earth, wreathed with spectral limbs and stretching faces, churning like the

stampede of a crowd. Sunlight enveloped their forms, roiling the souls into a

radiant mixture of whiffs and tufts and streams. As they rose higher, and

spread further apart, the souls became thin and translucent, the limbs and

faces drifting apart into wisps and vapor, until all that remained was a faint

sheen of dust, sparkling brightly in the light.

They

were dissipating, like Berith said. Without a corporeal form. . . .

Through

the sound of rumbling stone and groaning metal, Isaac realized he could hear

their voices again. It sounded like a gentle, whispering sigh.

The

screaming had finally stopped.

This

time, for good.

It felt

as if the geyser of souls erupted for hours. It was certainly less than a

minute. Eventually, the flow began to lessen, the radiant plume relaxing into a

minor spout, soon dividing into leaks and dribbles. Eventually, only a few

tendrils remained, like the last morning mists fading before the dawn. For a

moment, Isaac thought he saw one of the souls turn its face in his direction.

It was no more than a suggestion, the vaguest shape of a gaze, a smile, a

whispered word of thanks, and before Isaac had truly seen the soul at all, it

was gone, spreading into the peace of the breeze. All that remained in the air

was loose sand and reddened light.

The air

grew quiet. Thin motes of dust fell from the air.

Zaria

had him nestled against her chest. After a breath of relief, she ran her hands

over his body, checking for injury. “Good?”

He

tried to answer. All he could give was a grunt.

“Yes or

no, love.”

He felt

his lungs seize in his chest.

Zaria

released one of her hands. It was dripping with blood. “Oh, fuck me.”

He was

dizzy. The world seemed to swim.

“Isaac!”

The

knives. The two still in his arm. He only now noticed that the splints had

broken. All his falling and exertion had worsened the wounds. Blood flowed so

freely he could see it spurt with the beating of his heart.

He

couldn’t. . . .

Everything

shifted. He was staring at the sun. There was warmth on his face. There was a

feeling of ice crawling through his chest.

“Hey,

hey.” Zaria’s face, one eye wide. “Stay awake.”

His

throat was dry.

“Look

at me!”

The sky

was blue. There were veins of rock along the escarpment walls, entire geologies

of sediment. There was tugging somewhere below. He shifted again, and there was

sand and broken metal. He saw a pile of black. There was blood. Limbs. A face.

Uncle.

“Isaac!”

Berith.

Wait.

No.

Uncle.

Had he?

“Isaac!”

Wait.

No.

Wait.

Wait.

Uncle.

. . .

He woke

to the gentle flapping of cloth, straining against the wind.

For a moment,

he thought he was back in the desert. The air was hot, and there was sand on

his skin, and sunlight was beating down on the roof of his tent. His muscles

ached. His lips were cracked and split.

On this

particular day, his eyes had opened to the slanting fabric of his tent, and he

had known that he was soon to die of thirst. His thoughts had been muddy and

scattered, his muscles uncompliant. He had crawled out into the belly of a dry

river gulch, fingers scrabbling through the cracked dirt, realizing his only

hope was to head into the dunes and search for the oasis detailed on his map.

Instead, he had clashed with a skimmer full of pirates, and he had met Zaria,

and she had given him water.

Zaria.

The tomb.

His

father. . . .

He

blinked. He was in his tent again, lying on top of a bedroll. There was stone

beneath him, and sand blowing through the holes of the fabric. Beneath the

wind, he began to hear voices.

“. . .

can’t go together. Too big a target.” He recognized Zaria’s voice, low and

rough. “They’ll be rousing the constabulary of every town worth mention.”

“My

sister’s still home,” a male voice said, one that Isaac did not recognize. “My

aunt. My grandfather. I have to warn them.”

“Wouldn’t

try it, personally,” Zaria replied. “Might be you get there before the news

spreads. Might just get stopped in the road. Next thing you know, you’re

hauling irons for murder and treason. Your kin’ll

catch the same charge, if they’re seen with you.”

Somewhere,

a woman was sobbing. She sounded as if she had been doing so for quite a while.

There

was a tingling sensation running down his arm. Isaac recognized it immediately.

Soldier’s Rest. It was the same poultice he had given to Zaria in the

necropolis, and the same poultice he had always used for himself, whenever the

lashes of the cane had left him too debilitated to study.

Who had

made this?

Looking

down, he saw sutures and bandages in the place where two knives had previously

jutted from his arm. There was a deep bruise where the tourniquet had been. The

burn on his leg had been swabbed, cleaned, and packed with poultice. He could

still feel the edges of the wound. It was fairly deep. He would have to clean

it again, and frequently thereafter.

“We

need to go,” a second male said. “We can’t stay here. It won’t be long before

they send a search.”

“Ain’t

holding you hostage,” Zaria said. “Run along, then.”

The

woman continued to sob.

“You

should come,” the first male said. “Help us finish the climb. I don’t know how

well we can manage on our own, and . . . well, even if the coma subsides—”

“I’m

not hearing this again. He’ll pull through.”

“The

blood loss—”

“He’s a

tough little cunt. I’m sure he could fuck a sunblood

and just be wiping his cock afterward.”

There

was a pause.

“Right,”

said the first voice. “Well, if you’re sure. . . .”

“There’s

no doubt for me.” There were footsteps, coming closer. “Do as you wish. I’m not

leaving ‘til he’s up.”

The

tent shifted. Isaac managed to lift his head. Through the glare of the sun, he

could see Zaria’s face poking inside. The cloth she had wrapped around her eye

had been replaced with proper bandaging, though her fur was still matted with

blood and dust. She looked like a soldier who had narrowly survived a battle.

“Well,

now,” she said, breaking into a grin. “Look who’s returned.”

Isaac

attempted to rise, but he only managed to climb a few inches before his

strength completely waned. He felt as if his body had been filled with lead.

Zaria

crawled inside the tent, her considerable frame nearly uprooting the poles.

“How’re we feeling, then?”

“Alive.”

“Right

you are.” She almost said something else, but seemed to lose the words as she

looked down at him. “Wasn’t looking that way, for a good while.”

His

throat was painfully dry. “Water.”

She

reached over to the side and handed him the same stone bowl he used to prepare

his potions. Inside, there was a limpid broth, filled with crushed walnuts and

shreds of salted meat. It looked about as appetizing as old bath water, but

Isaac drank it greedily, draining the cup, barely chewing the leathery meat.

The

tent rustled again. He saw movement at the glare of the entrance.

Three

of the Khador students were staring inside. The sigils on their foreheads were

jagged and scarred, the flesh blackened along the deep grooves and winding

circles. There were two boys and one girl, and they must have been close to

Isaac’s age, but, at the moment, their faces were gaunt and worn, and their

robes hung like curtains on their bodies. Berith had clearly drained a portion

of their energy.

Berith.

The blood.

Isaac

tried to sit up again, managing to get to his elbows before Zaria pushed a firm

hand to his chest.

“You’re

takin’ a rest,” she said.

“I need

to—”

“Squire,

I swear to gods, I’ll tie you up again.”

“How

are you feeling?” one of the male apprentices asked.

Isaac

swallowed. “Weak. Cold.” He gestured at his sutures. “Did you make the

poultice?”

“Yes,”

said the other boy. “Professor Berith showed us how.”

The

girl peered from behind the two boys, her cheeks red and streaked with tears.

She was watching Isaac with a strange familiarity.

Above

him, Zaria was already preparing another stew, mixing in cuts of dried apple

and chamomile. The way she used her hand suggested it wasn’t paining her,

thanks to Soldier’s Rest. “I told them how it happened. Wasn’t a fun telling,

but things stayed civil.”

“Thank

you,” said the first boy. “Thank you for saving us.”

Isaac

took a moment to reply. “There were many others. I’m sorry I couldn’t save

them. Were they . . . the rest of your class?”

The

girl began to sob again. The second boy wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

“Do

you—” The first apprentice hesitated. “Do you need further aid? We were hoping

to save what supplies we have.”

“Aye,”

Zaria said. “Funny how there’s kindness, now, when you were itching to leave

him for dead.”

“T-that

wasn’t—we need to preserve—”

“Oh,

sure. Ain’t no blame.”

Isaac

flexed the fingers on his arm. Blood loss had made them stiff, and it was obvious

that his wounds had only been numbed, rather than healed. Still, at the moment,

he was feeling remarkably better. “I’m fine.”

“Good.

Good.”

The

apprentice looked to Zaria.

“Remember

the route I marked?” She kept stirring the lukewarm broth. “Which contacts are

like to give shelter?”

“Yes.

Uh, yes. It’s here.”

“Practice

a bit more with the ropes. Make sure you got the knots.”

“Y-yes,

I will. We will.”

“Hey,”

Zaria said. “Trust me. Send a courier. Tell your kin to meet you somewhere and

don’t have them go all together. Got it?”

The boy

gave a weak nod, his face pale and drawn. The girl was cradling her head in her

hands. The second boy was staring off into the distance, gazing over the cavern

walls.

“Right.”

She clapped the first boy on the shoulder. “Farewell. Best of luck all around.”

The

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