Chapter Ninety. The Symbol that Changes All.
Ninety
The Symbol that Changes All.
As I slowly lower myself back onto the bench, the little bell rings again.
It’s as the tinkling sound drifts into silence that I focus on the screen as if my stare could burn away its delicate weave …
so that I could look properly on the Sooth, who, I suddenly fear, holds an answer that I do not want.
“What does it mean,” I breathe.
“The S stands for Shadwe, the P for Possesstrix. Possessed of the Shadow One.”
“I—I … don’t understand.”
“You do not wish to understand.” The head shifts position, angling down. Then it relevels. “This is the symbol.”
A piece of parchment is put to the screen, and through the mesh, the drawing I’m shown is the symbol that I saw. All over my village. At the settlement we spent our first night in. The S and P together in a swirl.
“That which bears this mark has been claimed by the Dark King.”
“No…” Except my protest is weak. “How is this possible?”
“Agents of the Dark King went forth to your village and took the souls that resided therein for him. The fire comes when he accepts the victim’s essences.
After it is finished, the demons mark their new territory with that symbol and move on to the next.
They’re collecting the souls so that the evil’s power may grow and he may emerge from his prison within the Fulcrum.
For so long, he has been interred there, but it is in the nature of all things to grow.
Plants, animals, humans … good and evil as well. ”
I can’t breathe, and put my hand to my throat. “I don’t understand … why did I not know…”
“Your mind would not let you see. It supplied an alternate, logical explanation because you could not live with the truth and also because your time had not come yet.”
“The cow bodies.” I look to the screen again. “What of them.”
“The demons have been watching in these woods for weeks now, counting the take, planning the attack. These sentries of the Dark King may pass through the Fulcrum when he cannot. His force remains trapped, but he has bred these subordinations for the job he needs them to do, which is to harvest souls for his consumption. The black bands are not how the demons get out, but rather evidence of the evil’s increasing strength. ”
I picture the Fulcrum as I last saw it, black from base to top. In a strangled voice, I ask, “If the Sooths knew all this was happening, why did you not say?”
“We did. We warned your mayor repeatedly. He came just days previous with his sons, looking for placations and potions. He did not want the truth. He felt as you do now, facing what he cannot live with and fighting the inevitable.”
“What is the inevitable,” I breathe.
“The Dark King will triumph if a leader does not rise up, a leader … who has courage within them and the power to wield it against that which frightens them most.”
“The Queen who sees no one.”
“That is correct.”
I shake my head. “But she turned me down. I brought her the crown … and she refused the calling.”
The Sooth’s tone softens. “You have traveled farther than you thought you could, gathered skills and allies, and now your fate is culminating. Go into this first skirmish in the War for All Souls and know it is not even a proper battle. It is merely the greeting of the opponent. There is much more ahead for you … if you live through this night.”
As I exhale, I feel the world spin once again. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Yes, you do. The point of it all is with you.”
“The crown…” And then I think of Julion. “All right. If the Queen will not accept it, I have another. There is someone else I can go to. The prince of Prosperitus—”
“Indeed, and I am afraid the one you speak of is already driving his gathered men toward the Fulcrum’s altar. He is prepared to fight this very night and will die when he does.”
“He’s going to die?” I jump back to my feet and the bell rings, sounding like an alarm. Or maybe that’s the raucous noise in my head. “I have to do something, then. I have to warn him—”
The Sooth cuts me off. “I have waited generations for you to come unto me, Sorrel, and hear this message. I, and the other Sooths, wish you very well indeed. You will need courage not only to face the enemy, but to confront yourself.”
Blindly, I turn to the exit panel. Except then I stop. “Are you safe? Can I help you?”
There is a pause, and then the chuckle that comes back at me is soft. “We are not really here, my dear. That which does not exist on this plane may not be destroyed upon it. But I thank you for your kind consideration.”
“I didn’t believe in you,” I say roughly. “Until now.”
“That is all right. Truth does not require acceptance.” The sigh that percolates through the screen is as ancient as time. “It was no pleasure to tell you what you came for, I assure you. And given your kindness, let me present you with something in return.”
A small door beneath the screen opens and a tiny pouch is passed through. “You will know what it is for and when to use it. Remember, the reason for it all is yours.”
The light is extinguished as a plate is slid into place.
After I take what is given to me, I stumble out of the audience box, and the first thing I do is open the neck of the little bag. What rolls out into my hand is a gray pebble, of absolutely no remark whatsoever. I put it back and start walking, my limbs numb and sloppy.
I don’t remember anything of my careening path back through the woods.
My body knows the way, however, and presently I arrive at the pond, at the beach where Lavante stands in the sunlight, looking over the water as if enjoying the reflection of the puffy clouds.
Next to him, Snooze is … well, snoozing.
And for an instant, the temporary peace is a temptation to believe in. But I know better.
I stop next to a modest bundle of clothes and a big pile of weapons that sit next to the sapling around which both sets of reins have been wound.
Merc is in the water up to his neck, but not far out from the shore, as if he has taken a seat on the sandy bottom.
He’s facing away from me, toward the sun, which is even lower now.
With idle strokes, he waves his arms back and forth at the surface of the pond, the waves he makes catching the beautiful golden light, creating coins that spill out for lengths in all directions.
When I consider what I was told, I’m loath to ruin his moment.
It may well be the last quiet solitude he has for a very, very long time.
The start of the War of All Souls? The first battle … tonight. And we are in the midst of it.
This is what’s going through my mind when he dips his head back and then sluices the water out of his hair. After that, he rises up, emerging naked—
Whereupon I see his bare, scarred back for the first time.
At first my eyes reject what I’m looking at. And then the moan that comes out of my mouth emanates from deep, deep inside me.
And even though he turns to me, all my eyes know … all that I can see …
… is the symbol that is etched into his flesh, so deeply the edges are raised like ropes.
The S and the P, intertwined.