The Fall of Ossard ot-1 Page 16

  The wind picked up, the gust lifting the ash as a fine dark haze. Amidst its bluster, I could hear the moans of the dead coming from the celestial to haunt this terrible place.

  My steps became slower and my breathing deeper, but I continued on as I neared the mounds. On reaching the nearest, I saw that just past it opened the great hole that sank down into the blackened ground. It lay between the three monoliths, yawning wide and now plugged with rubble and ruin.

  Sef followed, but slowed. He had no wish to come any closer.

  I took a few more steps, absorbing the bleak and soot-covered scene.

  What a waste…

  Coming to a stop, I braced myself, and then let my vision drift into the celestial.

  The bright sparks of energy that had flared here two nights before as the ritual’s residue were now gone. I looked closer to find that something subtler remained.

  Shadows hung about me in that other world. Dark and insubstantial, they seemed lost and incomplete. They didn’t react to me, or each other, instead they just moved about senselessly.

  They were something left over from the victims, perhaps their last gasps or thoughts. Sadly there was so little left that these Shades had no sense, no knowing, and certainly no chance at rebirth.

  They were chilling, so much so that I had to pull away. With relief I returned my perception to the real world.

  What power had been unleashed here?

  Back in the real world, most of their bodies were also gone, taken by the ravages of the fire. The macabre towers in front of me were barely distinguishable from the slumped piles of charred timber that had been packed about their ruined forms. It was sickening.

  I tried to sense if anything of interest lay nearby. It seemed like a good idea, but my mind became stabbed in a thousand places by the feelings, thoughts, and other sensations emanating from the crowd. The overwhelming force of it saw me stumble.

  Sef asked, “Are you alright?”

  “Yes,” I said as I gathered myself.

  He nodded and turned back to check on the crowd.

  Shaken as I was, I noticed sweat on his face and that he’d paled. “Sef, are you well?”

  He turned to me and said, “I’ll manage, but it’s so uncomfortable.” After a moment, he added, “Can’t you feel it?”

  “Yes,” I said, but answered too quickly. I wasn’t exactly sure what he meant – there was just so much to take in.

  He realised. “Look at the ground, at the focus!”

  My gaze fell down to the ash at our feet.

  Dust rose from the charred soil, black and grey, it drifting across my boots to pass by. I followed a particular wisp of it as it climbed and tumbled, and after a moment realised that it wasn’t following a straight line. It travelled slowly along the edge of a circle, a wide circle, and that circle centred on the heart of the ritual.

  I asked, “What is it?”

  Sef was checking on the crowd. “I was hoping you’d know.”

  Me?

  He went on, “My guess is that it’s the seed of something, the seed of the ritual, perhaps the seed of power for all their rituals to come.”

  I hated this, it all being such a mystery. Everybody else seemed to know so much more about what was going on.

  I tried to settle down and focus myself. More than anything I’d come here looking for something that might indicate where Maria and Pedro were being held. That’s what I needed to worry about, nothing else.

  Again I opened up to the celestial, but this time I listened specifically for Maria. I couldn’t be sure, but seeing as I hadn’t heard from her since her kidnapping, I assumed that my talent for it was quite limited. If she was close, maybe I’d hear something. For long moments I stood there, my perception half in the celestial world and half in the real.

  Nothing…

  I kept trying, listening, and sensing.

  Nothing…

  Searching and seeking, desperately straining.

  Nothing…

  Sef’s voice made me jump, “We should go.”

  I followed his gaze; a growing number of the crowd were watching us. I nodded. Sef signalled to Kurt, and he in turn started to take the coach around to the far side of the ruin.

  Sef said, “Don’t look back. Let’s just get moving and keep at a steady pace. If we don’t look nervous and don’t rush, perhaps we can get away before any of them think to stop us.”

  I said, “Last time I looked, they seemed to be ignoring us.”

  “That was a long time ago. The birds have stirred them since then.”

  Birds?

  I looked to the west where the sun had noticeably dropped. “What birds, what do you mean?”

  Sef took hold of my arm and steered me forward. “Keep walking, I’ll watch your footing, but look up.”

  I did.

  A huge flock of gulls circled above. From their numbers, an endless stream of lone birds dove down towards us as if pointing. They’d pull up suddenly as they neared us, and then head back to rejoin the flock.

  We were being marked.

  Taking in the sight, I tilted my head further back, the movement freeing my robe’s hood to fall away.

  Behind us, voices hissed, “The Forsaken Lady!”

  The call was repeated as we neared the coach, Sef forcing me forward faster and faster.

  He whispered, “You get in, I’ll ride with Kurt in case they try and climb aboard.”

  I nodded while my mind raced; could I do something, some kind of witchery that might help stop the pursuit?

  Footfalls sounded only strides away.

  Sef’s other hand dropped to the hilt of his sword. “They’ll try and stop us,” he whispered.

  Our coach was close, only a dozen paces ahead. I watched as Kurt slowly reached for his own weapon.

  I wanted to run, but Sef hissed. He knew any sudden move would bring them onto us.

  Kurt sat with his eyes on us, his look indifferent. He refused to look at the mob, but it was clear there were many of them, and the growing murmur of their voices only confirmed it.

  With a few paces left, Sef whispered, “I’m going to push you forward, don’t stumble, just get in the coach and out of my sword’s way.”

  “Yes,” I answered with a dry throat as I cursed my own mind’s emptiness. Surely there was something I could do to help? Where was my damn witchery?

  The push came and I literally flew, landing hard against the coach door. Behind me, I heard Sef’s sword ring as it slid free of its scabbard.

  I jumped onto the step, got inside, and then turned about to check on Sef. He stood there with his sword out, the blade held high and ready.

  In front of him, a crowd spread several deep, with more crossing the charred ruin. Someone yelled, “Forsaken whore, you’ll damn us all!”

  I growled, “Leave or I will damn you!”

  The noise of the mob died.

  I held my face firm and tried to look dangerous.

  The mob glared back, but none of them moved.

  Sef reached behind him with his free hand to grab at the coach’s railing. All the while he swung his sword back and forth, and then yelled, “Kurt, go man, go!”

  Our driver didn’t need encouragement.

  Sef jumped up for the coach’s step while holding onto the rail.

  We lurched forward and sped up to leave the crowd behind. They yelled their curses, some of them picking up half-burnt timber from amidst the ruin to hurl after us.

  Sef slid inside and then closed the door. He opened the front port and said to Kurt, “Take us back to Newbank, but keep away from crowds.”

  He didn’t need to be told.

  The ride home should have been fast and uneventful – it wasn’t. Kurt planned on skirting the heart of the city by heading for the docks and using lesser streets, that way he would follow the river and get us back to Newbank.

  The port’s streets were strangely quiet, and the docks almost abandoned. It became clear why when we look
ed back over the city.

  In several places towards Market Square, great columns of oily black smoke arose. As we studied the soot-dusting plumes, we noticed more of them further back, and about those twisting pillars many lesser but similar trails off to their western side.

  Sef said, “The riots are getting worse.”

  Kurt brought the coach to a stop and then slid open the front port. “There’s a second group of fires further back,” he paused before adding, “I think it’s Newbank.”

  I had a terrible feeling he was right.

  Did the Guild still stand?

  I’d never felt myself to be a person ruled by overly strong feelings for my people, but at that point, with my mind filling with memories of our dark past, of a history of murders, massacres, and genocide, a sense of duty stirred in my breast. Its depth surprised me. If my people were in trouble, I needed to help them. On top of that, I still had to try and find my family. Could I do both?

  Damn it, I’d try!

  And in that moment, the power within me began to stir. Spirits gathered around my soul, I could feel them, and amongst them was my haunting grandmother.

  In my mind, I screamed at her with frustration, “Show me what to do!”

  She didn’t answer.

  My perception slid into the next world, and for the first time I saw her: She appeared stark against that dark void, all painted in the bright hues of celestial blue. In some ways her pale face was like my mother’s, but her eyes were nothing but deep pools of sorrow. Long hair blew wildly about her, it moving quickly as if caught in a rugged gale; that lively action was matched by her billowing dress, the motion, on one so dead, gave her a strange sense of the vital.

  She was searching my soul, her own face plagued by frustration.

  It was then that I realised her dress was woven of flame and smoke, her whole spirit defined by her fiery death.

  And all the while my power stirred, growing restless, yet somehow trapped.

  What was wrong?

  Back in the real world, Sef’s voice grabbed my attention, “Juvela, where do you want us to go?”

  It dragged my perception back. “If Newbank’s under siege, we have to help.”

  He growled at Kurt, “Go man, get us to Newbank!”

  Kurt yelled at the horses, striking them as he sent us speeding home.

  13

  Fires at Sunset

  The sun had begun to set behind us, tinting the sky a fiery orange and making the thick columns of smoke all the more ominous as they took on the tones of red. The very air seemed to glow, the sun’s last rays catching the haze and ash to give it a golden edge.

  Our coach charged along as if out of control, but Kurt somehow managed it. He yelled for people to clear the way as he dared people to dither, the crack of his whip offering encouragement.

  While the streets surrounding the port had stood mostly empty, they became crowded closer to the river forcing us back near Market Square. Kurt slowed, having to pick his way more carefully.

  We turned near the rear of the Cathedral to miss the worst of the crowds, and from there took another street that came into the bottom corner of the square. Kurt took us along its edge, its centre full of people cheering at a fire where smoke billowed to rise.

  My grandmother’s spectral voice howled, “No!” and around her climbed a maddening chorus. She commanded, “Go there, seek him, kill him!”

  Her intensity shocked me.

  She growled, her words striking like blows, “He’s doing it again!” and demanded, “Stop him!”

  I began reaching for the sliding panel to instruct Kurt, but Sef grabbed at my hands. His grip was firm and tight, he’d never held me like that before. Leaning forward to meet me face to face, he hissed, “No, he’ll kill you!”

  Had he heard her?

  I whispered, my voice weak, “She wants to…”

  “I know she does, but you must fight!”

  “She’s so strong. She wants me to, all of them do.”

  “Yes, but it’ll cost you your life!”

  I gasped, “Not if she can strike him…”

  He called out, “Kurt, get us away from here!” Then he turned his attention back to me. “She will kill him, but in the process she’ll possess you to do it. Once back in flesh, she won’t relinquish it!”

  Tears crept from my eyes. “I can hear the fire and feel its heat!” And I could, the searing burn of it licked hotly at my feet.

  He called out to Kurt, “Faster!”

  The coach turned and launched into speed. The movement threw us to the side, leaving us staring into the heart of the crowd and a distant bonfire.

  Sef cursed, “Damn it, Kurt, move or I’ll have your balls!”

  I gasped as I stared into the hungry flames. Amidst their yellow glow stood three stakes, each with a charred form slumping from it.

  The voices within me howled, my grandmother’s calling, “Damn you, take me to him!”

  The Inquisitor had been busy.

  Sweat ran from my brow and down my trembling arms, yet Sef’s grip held firm. He gave me an anchor from which to drive back her rage. Gritting my teeth, I gathered my will and closed myself to her anger. At the same time, and working to my advantage, each moment saw the coach move further away.

  Sef hissed, “Fight them, Juvela! Fight them for Pedro and Maria!”

  And I did, forcing them back while whispering that there’d be another time for vengeance – a better time.

  Finally, they relented.

  I sighed with relief, conscious of my body’s tenseness and dampness after washing itself in sweat. I gave a nod that saw Sef relax his grip.

  Breathing heavily, I said, “We haven’t even got to the bigger fires, I dread to think what’s happening there.”

  He shrugged. “We’ll see soon enough. Are you sure you’re alright?”

  I nodded and leaned back into my seat.

  We turned out of the square, slowing for the corner as we passed the city’s old opera house. Then it happened, coming out of nowhere, a whisper cutting through my mind and straight into my heart, “Mama!”

  I screamed, “Stop!” and lunged for the door. The energy that had spent a lifetime building within me surged and bucked.

  Sef tried to stop me, but as I opened the door and stepped out of the slowing coach, I gasped, “Maria’s here!” He froze in shock.

  I hit the cobbles hard, but somehow managed to keep my feet. Around me people stared, wondering who this mad woman was who’d stepped from a moving coach. Then they knew. I heard it whispered on dozens of tongues and in a hundred minds, “The Forsaken Lady!”

  Kurt stopped the coach nearby.

  Sef called out to him, “Wait.” He jumped down to run across and join me. “What is it?”

  “Maria’s here!”

  A crowd began to gather.

  Sef glared at them to keep them back, but it didn’t hush their minds.

  “The Forsaken Lady!”

  Sef asked, “Where?”

  With frustration, I said, “I don’t know!”

  Already part of my perception dove through the celestial calling out her name. Searching alongside my soul were others, including my grandmother – this time helping.

  Into the celestial I called, “Maria!”

  Only silence met me, not even a taste.

  Sef, worried about the gathering crowd, asked again, “Where?”

  The air swirled about us, dragging the smoke of the bonfires low and bringing with it the stench of burning meat.

  I shook my head while again calling into the celestial, “Maria?”

  Silence.

  Tears came to me. A great flood of bloody things that trickled down my face as though my heart had broken to release its store.

  The crowd gasped and fell back.

  I could also see Sef’s pain; his eyes wide and ready to shed his own grief. How could I have ever doubted him? Despite his own secrets, he remained, as he always had been, loyal.


  I fell to my knees, landing hard on the cobbles. It hurt, but the pain was nothing compared to the celestial’s quiet.

  I screamed again into that strange black and blue world, “Maria!”

  Silence.

  “Maria, I love you!”

  Nothing.

  Sef looked down at me with sorrow-filled eyes, but I barely noticed. Every ounce of my being listened in the celestial, waiting and sensing for some sign of my daughter’s life.

  It didn’t come.

  With hands bloody from wiping at my tears, I reached out to lean on the cobbles in front of me. So close to finding her, yet having failed, I could feel the gorge rising within; I was going to be sick.

  As my bloodstained fingers touched the cobbles, the font of power within my soul sparked. The air around me chilled and crackled, taking on a metallic stink, and then my senses in both worlds were blinded as I released a ring of power. It rushed out from me to roll away.

  Sef gasped as the crowd fell back, but the best part cut through it like love into loneliness – it was her celestial voice, “Mama?”

  “Maria! Where are you?”

  “Mama!”

  “Maria, I’m just off the square. Where are you?”

  “I don’t know, but it’s dark and damp. I think I’m in a cellar.”

  “Is Father there?”

  “Father’s here and others, but they can’t talk. They’re asleep.”

  I looked to Sef. “I’ve got her. She’s nearby, maybe in a cellar.”

  He looked around us only to turn back confused. “How close does she have to be to hear you?”

  “Not too far, the link isn’t that strong.” But I wondered; why couldn’t I see her soul?

  Sef nodded. “Well, she’s either in a cellar of one of the shops behind you or in the opera house.”

  We both looked to the imposing building. Somehow it seemed right that she’d be in there, it’d been closed for a while and was big enough to keep a large group in. I started to get to my feet, but the link with Maria broke as soon as I lifted my hands from the bloody stones.

  After worrying about her for so long, to have the link cut so abruptly saw me throw myself back down. Straight away I could feel her.