Soulkeeper Read online

“What do you wish to share, Tomas?” Malik asked when Tommy did not continue.

  “Tommy. It’s—it’s Tommy. That’s what my friends call me. I’d like you to call me Tommy, too.”

  Malik’s frown didn’t budge in the slightest.

  “Pray tell me that is not the reason for your distracted attention.”

  “Oh no,” Tommy said. “No, no, that’s not what is distracting me. It’s more my ability to summon lightning and fire that’s got me all tangled up.”

  It took a full three seconds before Malik responded. “Excuse me?”

  Tommy sighed and rubbed his eyes.

  “Look, I know that what I am about to tell you will sound insane, but I am asking you to suspend your disbelief for just a few moments while I explain what happened to me in Crynn.”

  “You told me you hid in your tower until the Soulkeeper, Devin, found and escorted you to Londheim,” Malik said.

  “And I did. But that’s not quite… everything.”

  He didn’t know where to begin, so he blurted out every detail he could think of in somewhat chronological order. The other Wise listened without saying a word. His frown tightened. Tommy revealed the casting of spells, the destruction he’d unleashed on the corrupted humans, his shock and subsequent delight, all of it. The only thing he kept to himself was Puffy’s existence. It seemed a bit rude to step on Devin’s toes in that department.

  At last he finished. He slumped in his chair and sighed with relief.

  “Whew. I feel so much better, Malik. Thanks for letting me get that off my chest. I’ve been debating for at least two days now, do I tell him, do I not tell him, and my sister was so worried…”

  “Stop rambling,” Malik said. He rose from his seat. “To the basement. Now.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Tommy, I am faced with two distinct possibilities. One is that you are capable of wielding tremendous power using long-discredited arcane words and spells. The other is that you have completely lost your goddess-damned mind. The only reasonable action before we proceed in our research is to conclude which of the two is true.”

  “You know, when you put it that way it does sound quite reasonable.”

  They left the archive and descended the stairs to the basement. Normally it would be packed full of barrels and crates, but those stored foodstuffs had been quickly distributed over the past few days, mostly to Adria in Low Dock per Tommy’s request. This left them a large, empty space with stone walls, a perfect area to showcase his newfound talents.

  “You might perceive this as an insult,” Malik said as he went from lantern to lantern upon the wall and lit them with a candle. “But I’m honestly hoping you’re insane.”

  Tommy put a hand to his chest. “That’s rather hurtful.”

  “Don’t take it personally. If what you said is true, the entire scientific understanding of the world we Wise have built over the centuries is going to need a thorough deconstruction. Plus, the thought of you being able to incinerate me with a snap of your fingers is a little bit frightening.”

  “I’d never do such a thing.”

  Malik finished lighting the last lantern and blew out his candle.

  “You said you flung Devin Eveson across the room without meaning to do so.”

  “I did, but accidents happen.”

  “That’s also what I’m afraid of.” Malik stepped beside Tommy and pointed to a bare wall. “Now do… whatever it is you do.”

  Tommy rolled up the sleeves of his robe, cracked his knuckles, and hopped his weight from foot to foot.

  “All right.” He clapped his hands together, then remembered. “Oh. One moment. I need my book.”

  Tommy ran up the stone steps to the first floor of the tower, ducked into his room, and grabbed Salid Emberson’s Aethos book from his bedside table. He clutched it between sweating fingers as he rushed back down to the cool basement. An inner monologue of various spells cycled through his head. Should he stick with the easiest? The flashiest? Would lightning summoning even work in a basement? He was still lost in his own head when he hit the bottom of the stairs. Only by nearly bumping into a waiting Malik did he regain focus.

  “What?” Tommy asked at Malik’s perplexed expression. “I’m still new to this whole ‘magic’ thing. Can’t expect me to have everything all figured out and ready.”

  “Just… get on with it.”

  Tommy stuck with the most basic of his spells, one he could conjure with only a single word spoken aloud if he recited the rest of the verbal recipe in his head. He didn’t even need a quick reminder from the book he’d fetched. His hand casually flicked toward the wall.

  “Aethos.”

  A thin zap of lightning streaked from his fingertips. It hit the stone and crawled in several directions before fizzling out.

  “There. Do you believe me now?”

  He looked over to Malik. His superior’s mouth hung open, his eyes locked on the lightning’s spot of impact. He’d dropped his candle to the floor. Tommy was a little surprised at how poorly Malik was taking it. To be honest, he’d grown quite used to having this power and it was hard to remember just how world-shattering the concept was when he first discovered the ability. Granted, he’d also been trapped in a tower by weird, mutilated living-dead things for a few days. Pretty much everything following the black water had left his brain a little scrambled and open to the weirder side of life.

  “Tommy…” Malik said. He spoke as if startling awake from a dream.

  “Yes?”

  “Can you cast more?”

  Tommy interlocked his fingers and stretched them until they popped.

  “I can indeed. If you’d like, I can put on a damn show!”

  Despite his bravado, Tommy quickly learned that his limits were far below what might be considered a “show.” Three more spells took the wind out of him. The first was a blast of fire that scorched the stone and left far too much smoke inside their cramped quarters. The second was a small white orb that materialized within his palm. When he tossed it at the wall, it exploded into a swirling torrent of ice and snow. It took a bit to succeed in a third spell, for two new incantations conjured nothing but a sigh from Tommy’s lips. At last he attempted a spell that would supposedly grant him a sword of lightning. Instead it created a temporary swirl of electricity around his fingers before fizzling away. After each spell Malik clapped his hands like a guest at an opera.

  “Whew,” Tommy said. He leaned against a thick wood beam. “I’m sorry, Malik, but I don’t think I can do any more, not without a bit of rest. I feel like I sprinted from one side of Londheim to the other, and I’m starving like a coyote to boot.”

  “That is just fine, Tommy.” Malik walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. “You and I, we’re going to scavenge through every book in our archives for more viable spells.”

  Tommy hadn’t felt so happy since he’d met Devin back in Crynn. The more people who knew about his abilities, the less strange it all seemed. The less lonely, too.

  “I couldn’t agree more,” he said. “Shall we get started in the apocrypha section, or dig through the trunked material?”

  “Not yet.” Malik stared at their target wall. His square jaw rocked back and forth as if he were attempting to swallow something. His eyes barely blinked. “I want to see if I can cast these spells myself.”

  “But… are you sure? Maybe, maybe it’s dangerous for those who first try? I might have been incredibly lucky, you know.”

  Tommy couldn’t explain it but his mood immediately turned defensive. This was his talent. This was what made him special. If Malik could easily replicate what he’d done…

  “I must know if this power is unique to the individual or accomplishable by anyone with the proper training and commands,” Malik said.

  “Does it matter?”

  Malik crossed his arms and frowned down at him. It seemed his face became more square, if that were even possible.

  “It does indeed. Imagine if th
e words to create your blast of fire became common knowledge throughout the city? What would life be like if even the roughest of sorts could wield such power? We have a responsibility to the safety of Londheim’s people, and that means understanding the rules of our new world.”

  Tommy clucked his tongue.

  “I guess you could do some bad things with these spells, but that feels like such a waste. Imagine everyone able to light their fires at night with a clap of their hands? What might we accomplish if we can summon and move stones with our minds, or conjure food and drink from thin air? It could be paradise!”

  “I have studied history extensively, Tommy. Any force for good, if capable of evil, will inevitably be used for evil. It’s just the nature of humanity.”

  Tommy frowned at him.

  “Such a pessimistic viewpoint.”

  “It is a realistic viewpoint; now please, lend me the book.”

  Any more protests would be useless. Not only was Malik his superior, but his force of will was such that Tommy doubted he could say no to him for long. He flipped to the page detailing a simple zap of lightning and handed it over. Malik ran his fingers over the words.

  “The pronunciations are based on the Orissian dialect,” Tommy offered. “Particularly the original eastern.”

  “Tommy, this might shock you, but you were not the only one to study the old scrolls and spells when undergoing training,” Malik said. He glanced up and winked. “I too spent a few days wagging my fingers and reciting lines when I thought no one was looking.”

  “I knew I wasn’t alone!” Tommy said. “I was so certain the other Wise would mock me for it.”

  “Oh, they would. Consider it a time-honored tradition of the Wise. We make fools of ourselves, then enjoy calling others fools. Quiet now. I must concentrate.”

  Tommy anxiously watched Malik mouth the words to the spell. They were simple enough, just four in total and none longer than two syllables. Like all the others he’d successfully cast, the word Aethos featured prominently as the first or second word. It was the only constant so far that he’d noticed. After a terribly long time Malik shut the book, handed it back to Tommy, and clapped his hands.

  “The spell will conjure after the last syllable, yes?” he asked.

  “It should. Keep your hands outstretched and your fingers pointed, otherwise you might not know where it goes.”

  Malik did so, awkwardly shifting his hands this way and that as if deciding the proper pose. The sight provoked a laugh, which Tommy thankfully caught and strangled in his throat at the last second. The man was always so calm and collected. The idea that he could be nervous or uncertain had never even entered Tommy’s mind. Once Malik settled on a position with his palms flat against each other and his fingers pointing to the wall, he blurted out the words of the spell.

  “Aethos creare parvos fulgur!”

  Nothing.

  “Did I make an error?” Malik asked, his body still locked in place.

  “Well, it sounded fine to me,” Tommy said. “Perhaps slow down a little? You don’t need to hurry the words. It’s not a race.”

  Malik wiped his brow with the back of his hand and then resumed his stance.

  “Aethos. Creare. Parvos fulgur!”

  Not even the tiniest of sparks. Tommy could summon more lightning with his feet and a shaggy rug.

  “Maybe you need the book?” Tommy offered hopefully.

  Holding the book did not matter. Reading the words slower or faster did not matter. Malik spread his hands, he widened his palms, he sat, he stood, and he wiggled his fingers for dramatic effect. Nothing mattered.

  “Are you sure I am saying the words correctly?” Malik asked after the ninth attempt.

  “Aethos creare parvos fulgur.” A casual flick of Tommy’s wrist sent another thin bolt of lightning into the wall. “Earlier I only said Aethos because if I think the other three in my head, it will… still… what?”

  Tommy could not interpret the look on Malik’s face to save his life. Thankfully the bear hug that immediately followed settled that.

  “You beautiful bastard,” Malik said, shaking him in his grasp. “This is everything. Somehow, some way, you and possibly you alone have tapped into things we could only dream of. This is an opportunity seen once in a generation. We will journey into a brand-new field of study as true pioneers. Our names will echo on in history, Malik Sumter and Tomas Moore, the first scholars of the old magic!”

  “That sounds wonderful, though I certainly don’t feel like a once-in-a-generation pioneer. I mostly feel a little pooped.”

  “I’ve theories on that, theories we’ll discuss in due time. For now, we collect books for our reading.”

  “Shouldn’t we inform the other Wise of what we’ve discovered?” Tommy asked. “At least a cursory letter explaining the basics?”

  “Oh, Goddesses, no,” Malik said. “This is our discovery, and we shall reveal it when we are good and ready. Until then, we keep this tight to our chests, Tommy.”

  The Wise vibrated with the energy of a far younger man. The studious veneer he’d kept since Tommy’s arrival had rapidly given way to excitement and curiosity. It was almost like meeting a brand-new person.

  You aren’t the only one affected by the black water, Tommy reminded himself. Yes, he’d seen his share of carnage and endured things he’d much rather forget. That didn’t deny others the weight of sudden change and confusion at the arrival of the crawling mountain. Too many whispered that the world was at its end. Of course Malik would seem a little stiff and overly serious upon first meeting. No doubt this excited, eager-to-learn man was who he’d been before everything went strange.

  “I guess we can keep quiet for now,” Tommy said. “But I have one important condition that you must agree to before we begin this grand adventure.”

  “Name it.”

  “It goes Tomas and Malik, not Malik and Tomas. My name first. I’m the one throwing the lightning and fire, so it’s only fair.”

  Malik’s face might not crack at a frown, but his every feature widened upon his ear-to-ear smile.

  “That, my friend, is a deal.”

  CHAPTER 16

  What had once been pieces of a man were submerged halfway into the stone wall and then locked in place. He bore the garb of a Mindkeeper, though his mask was cracked in half and used to cover his crotch instead of his screaming face. Given the many broken bones and exposed tissue there should have been a fountain of blood staining the wall and street, but instead a frozen flow of gold painted large swathes of the surrounding area. As for the shape this poor man had been twisted into, there was no mistaking the downward-pointing triangle, with the Mindkeeper’s severed head and golden blood-spray marking the bright daylight sun in the top right corner.

  “I hope to fucking stars you know what this shit means,” one of the many guards told Devin as they observed the macabre display. “Because we don’t.”

  Devin certainly did not, but he would keep such thoughts to himself.

  “We don’t want anyone to panic,” he said instead. “Block off both sides of the road until all… this… is taken care of.”

  The rattled guard nodded.

  “Already on it.”

  Devin stared at the mutilated body, his mind racing. An order from Vikar Forrest had brought him here, and though it’d warned of a brutal sight, nothing could have prepared him for this. It wasn’t just the body, either. Long, looping letters swam across the wall beneath the body. They appeared written with some kind of silver paint… no, that wasn’t right. The wall itself had been turned into silver, but only where the beautiful script flowed.

  Elegant calligraphy, and the ugliest of words.

  The artist returns. Know his name.

  Below that, in emeralds instead of silver or gold, was signed a lone name.

  Janus.

  City guards hacked at parts of the wall with shovels, but there would be no digging the dead Mindkeeper out. He was one with the stone. By Dev
in’s estimate, they’d have to cut and scrape off what they could and brick the rest over, a permanent addition to Londheim’s architecture. The thought gave him chills.

  What kind of monster could have done this? he wondered. Nothing human, that was for certain. A creature awakened by the black water, perhaps? One with a severe hatred toward the Sisters and their Keepers. Devin grabbed one of the guards, a younger woman with a face so pale he wondered if she’d soon vomit.

  “Interview everyone who lives on this street,” he said. “Find out if anyone saw anything the slightest bit unusual, no matter how irrelevant they might think it is. Should you discover a clue toward who—or what—this Janus person is, contact Vikar Forrest immediately. Is that understood?”

  The woman nodded. Wishing there were more he could do, Devin shook his head and walked away. His Vikar had requested he return when finished examining the scene, so best get that over with immediately.

  All three Vikars worked and lived in the enormous Cathedral of the Sacred Mother located in the heart of Londheim. The cathedral was triangular, with towering stone walls believed to be over eight centuries old. Painted-glass windows showcased former Vikars preaching to crowds, slaying monsters, and healing the wounded. Something about the architecture stood apart from the rest of the city, built in a style no one alive remained to master. The walls jutted at strange, random intervals, creating little alcoves and sharp rises that ended in hollow towers. It looked less like it had been built and more like it had ripped itself up from the ground, majestic and proud.

  Each of its walls was named for one of the three sacred divisions of the Keeping Church and their corresponding goddess: Alma for Faith, Lyra for Mind, and Anwyn for Soul. Devin climbed the steps to Anwyn’s gate, passed through with a polite nod to the novices stationed on either side, and entered the Soulkeeper’s Sanctuary. This section of the cathedral was dedicating to housing and training new Soulkeepers. The walls were decorated with scriptures from Anwyn’s Mysteries carved into golden plaques, and the many paintings showcased their patron deity lovingly guiding the souls of the dead on from their bodies to the stars beyond.