Soulkeeper Page 8

  “Then find a new purpose,” Devin said. His finger twitched upon the trigger. “You said you walked among kings and queens? Do so again. Help us understand what is happening to our world.”

  Lavender’s sharp teeth spread into the most bitter of smiles.

  “Do you think I cannot smell the stink of terror leaking from your every pore?” she asked. “I shall find no acceptance, nor do I want it. Go. Run to whatever city you think still remains after Viciss’s rage washed the world black. Leave me to my ghosts.”

  “And what of your wolves?”

  Lavender stepped away from him, still showing no fear of his pistol.

  “They shall hunt as they wish. Perhaps they will let you be. Perhaps you will murder them when they seek food.” She glanced over her shoulder. Her tears were gone, replaced with sickening disgust. “Humanity has always been so good at murder.”

  She turned to black and slid inside the cave. A wall of webbing sealed the way behind her. Devin holstered his pistol and pulled the ramrod torch free from his coat pocket.

  “You all right?” he asked the firekin. Puffy nodded, its flame settling tighter against the burning cloth. “Good. I hope you stay with me for a while longer. These mountains are cold and lonely, and right now, I’d rather not be either.”

  CHAPTER 9

  As best as Puffy conveyed to him, Devin had been held prisoner in Lavender’s cave for almost twenty-four hours. Catching up with the people of Dunwerth would be much harder, but he pushed himself to make up what ground that he could. By morning Devin descended the last of the Winding Steppes into the valley beyond. They’d traveled the entire night, too cautious to sleep anywhere where the two spider-wolves might still hunt. He’d hoped that upon reaching the valley he’d discover the black water’s limits, but instead waving black grass greeted him. The only sign of life was the wide path carved through it signifying the villagers’ progress.

  “Still, we move on,” Devin told Puffy. He’d stopped for a bit to secure the ramrod in his pack for safer travel, as well as wrapping another layer of cloth around the muzzle. It’d burned at a much, much slower rate than he’d expected, no doubt due to the firekin’s masterful control. The cloth was food to it, and it rationed carefully.

  After twenty miles Devin decided he could go no farther. He settled down onto his back and let out a pained grunt. Puffy hopped free of the torch and zipped across the dirt to the edge of the blackened grass. Devin watched with a half-open eye. The firekin slowly curled into the grass, which ignited with an audible whoosh. Puffy settled into it, a small circle of flame forming about it. Devin couldn’t see its expression, but he had a feeling it bore a look of happiness based on the steady puffs of smoke rising to the cloudy sky.

  “Don’t let me sleep for long,” Devin said. “I just need a few hours, that’s all.”

  When he awoke the sun was high overhead, for he’d slept all through the night. Devin struggled to his feet, and he cast a tired frown to where Puffy still calmly waited in its small circle of flame.

  “I thought I asked you to wake me,” he said.

  The firekin burned a message into the dirt and then tilted its head sideways.

  U SLEEP GOOD?

  “Yes, but that’s beside the point,” Devin grumbled. He ate the last of his bread, downed half of his water, and then continued. Puffy traveled alongside him, flicking the edges of the black grass occasionally to fuel itself. Its preferred size seemed to be about the size of Devin’s hand, and anytime it grew larger than that, it stayed on the bare dirt and hopped along until it shrank again. Devin chatted with it off and on, never receiving any answers but still enjoying its company. In many respects it reminded Devin of a child. When they stopped for a rest it peered into the contents of his pack, one time nearly setting the leather aflame. Other times it dashed to and fro ahead of him, as if impatient with Devin’s steady pace. Despite its lack of facial features beyond those two solid black eyes, Devin found the firekin incredibly expressive. More amusing, he caught it mimicking his actions several times when it thought he wasn’t looking.

  “How long will you travel with me?” he asked the firekin when he stopped for a breather. “Have you any family or… how did Lavender put it? Perhaps friends that ‘awakened’ with you that you should find?”

  Puffy slowly swayed in the center of a patch of black grass. Its eyes closed, rendering it near indistinguishable from a normal fire. Devin accepted the answer with grace.

  “Your life is your own, little firekin,” he said. “I only ask that I may call you friend.”

  A single eye popped open. Puffy’s head extended up a bit so he might see its subtle nod.

  “Thank you,” he said. “Stay at my side as long as you wish, and should you ever leave, I will pray to the Sisters for your safety.”

  The fire flared a tiny bit. Anger, or happiness? He couldn’t tell, and he did not have the courage to ask. Instead he drank the last of his water and resumed his trek, crossing the final miles to gaze over the field of grass between him and the walls of Crynn. The Dunwerth villagers’ pathway veered wide of the town entirely, but why?

  The walls are black, Devin thought as he lowered his spyglass. But that’s not enough to have chased them off. What then?

  The only visible building from his vantage point was the tall, blocky stone Tower of the Wise. If the world was kind, Devin’s brother-in-law, Tomas, would be safe within its walls. Devin turned his focus to the open gate, but he couldn’t see much. Something had to have chased away the villagers, but what?

  There. A slumping form exited the doorway, its movements painfully familiar. Just like the returned dead from Dunwerth. He focused the spyglass. No, not quite the same. It still had eyes, for starters. All its hair had fallen out, leaving its sickly pale flesh completely smooth and bald. Its mouth was completely covered over with a thick layer of what appeared to be dried blood, rendering it mute and unable to bite. The creature stumbled over the grass, and Devin noted how it did not erupt into black powder as it would with his own passage.

  “Anwyn have mercy,” he muttered. “The world is conspiring against me.”

  That the creature could safely move through the tall grass awakened a new worry. Devin scanned the field between him and Crynn. He’d been so focused on the town, and the path taken by the villagers, he’d not searched the field itself. Now that he knew what he looked for, he spotted them with ease. Slumped heads and shoulders rose inches above the swaying grass. They didn’t move. They just waited. Hundreds filled the fields, his every turn finding more.

  “No wonder the people avoided the town,” Devin said as he put away his spyglass. He knelt so he might better address Puffy. “Listen, my brother-in-law lives in there, and no matter how bad it looks, I need to know if he’s survived. We’ll sprint our way to the town entrance, and I do not expect to be safe once we’re inside. Given your nature, I confess I do not know if these creatures present you any danger, but I thought I should tell you my plan before we make the attempt.”

  Puffy elongated its form so it appeared taller, two little fists clenched against its hips as it nodded. Devin smiled.

  “It’s good to know at least one of us is brave.”

  Now there left the matter of his breathing. Devin used his sword to cut a ring free from the bottom of his pant leg. Puffy watched, one eye lifted slightly higher than the other.

  “I used my protective mask for your fuel,” Devin explained. “I’m making do with what I have until we reach town and I can search for something better.”

  Puffy bounced up and down, its black eyes wide and shaking. A soft hiss emanated from it in quick, short bursts. Devin stared at it in bafflement. Was… was the firekin laughing at him?

  “Have you a better solution?” he asked it. Puffy nodded. “Then be my guest.”

  Puffy dashed into the black grass without hesitation, immediately setting it on fire. This time it wasn’t just licking the outskirts of a pathway or burning a circle for them to c
amp within. The firekin ran straight for Crynn, and in its wake spread an inferno. The grass erupted into flames in an unstoppable wave. Devin backed away from its heat with his arm raised to protect his face. It spread wider and wider, a triangular sea of fire and smoke. The legion of corrupted dead within howled and flailed their arms, but they were powerless against the fire’s rage. The sky filled with ash. Devin feared nothing would stop it. He imagined that every inch of United Orismund seared with flame, fields and homes and forests stripped away, breaking nations down to a barren layer of earth matching what the Three Sisters found when they first set foot upon the Cradle.

  Except it did stop. There seemed no reason for it, but the spreading wave hit a line several hundred yards to the east and west and halted before dwindling to nothing. The smoke drifted with the wind. After several minutes Devin could see a clear path leading directly to Crynn’s gates. A tiny little flicker dashed toward him across the barren earth. Devin knelt and waited for Puffy’s triumphant return. Its coal eyes were wide and shaking, the flame of its body newly vibrant.

  “I admit my defeat,” Devin said, hoping his voice lacked any hint of the fear in his chest. “Your plan is indeed better.”

  Puffy gave an exaggerated bow and then hopped back along the path it had created as if it were no big feat. Devin tied the cut strip of gray cloth around his mouth and nose, this time to protect against the thick haze of smoke, and then followed with his sword drawn and his pistol loaded.

  Devin’s hope that the walls would protect the town quickly died. The all-too-familiar rot of black water washed the side of every home. Devin steadily walked the street toward the tower, his head on a swivel. To the best of his recollection, two thousand people lived in and around Crynn. No town of that size should be this unnaturally quiet. His black boots hitting the earth was the loudest sound in all of the town. His nervousness made him wish to talk to Puffy, but his hunter’s instinct kept him silent. This place was dangerous.

  A loud crash jerked his attention to the side. Clay shards of a toppled flowerpot rattled below a windowsill. The half-rotted curtain fluttered despite the lack of wind. Devin aimed his pistol for the home’s door and waited. It cracked open. The former occupant stepped out.

  “Sisters save us,” Devin whispered. It wasn’t dried blood that crusted over their mouths like he first thought when viewing the monsters through his spyglass. It was angry, sealed-over scar tissue.

  The corrupted human took a step toward him, then another. Its blue eyes stared at him, analyzing with a disturbing intellect. Devin shook his head. Would it understand?

  “Stay back,” he whispered softly. “Or I will shoot.”

  His threat had the immediate opposite effect. The human broke into a sprint on a direct collision course. Devin swore. He had no choice. The flamestone erupted within the barrel. His shot ripped a hole open between the eyes and a matching hole on its exit out the brain. The body dropped in a wet puddle of blood and gore.

  In the quiet afternoon, that shot was an echoing thunder call.

  “We need to hurry,” he told the firekin as he quickly reloaded his pistol. Puffy crossed its arms, nodded, and then dashed to the nearby home. It crawled up the wall like a spider, leaving a tiny ashen trail in its wake. High ground was certainly desirable, but Devin doubted he could follow along rooftop to rooftop. Forget the wide gaps between homes. The buildings themselves couldn’t even support their own weight, let alone his.

  Devin spotted the first of the bald mute things watching him from a window at his left. It didn’t attack. It didn’t run. It just watched. Nerves clenched Devin’s jaw tight. Just move, he told himself. Perhaps if he showed no signs of panic it’d let him be. And perhaps if he prayed hard enough, the Goddesses would descend from the heavens bringing him guards, horses, and a cheese-stuffed bread roll.

  Once Devin was sufficiently far away, the creature exited the doorway and began following him step for step. Devin paused, and so did it. He carefully turned in place and lifted his pistol. Unlike the other monstrous creations he’d encountered since the black water, this one seemed to understand the threat of a pistol. It immediately dove to the side, cowering behind the corner of a home. Devin could have fired, but something about the scenario felt off. Staged, even.

  Eyes peered at him from the window just above him. Waiting.

  “Oh, fuck me sideways,” Devin muttered. How many more might be watching? How many more were eager for him to waste his shot? Devin resumed walking, a plan formulating in his head. Perhaps it’d be best to stand his ground and force the creatures to attack? It could work, but the noise of battle might also summon more of them. These things weren’t like the creatures in Dunwerth. These showed a sense of self-control, and perhaps a lingering intelligence from when they were alive. Now whether that was good or bad, well…

  Devin decided bad when he found the road ahead blocked by three more of the corrupted humans. Their silence unnerved him further. They stood side by side, heads tilting back and forth, carefully watching him. A glance behind him showed two more lurking in the rubble of a collapsed home. Staring. Waiting.

  Devin’s careful walk turned to a jog. He turned early, and the second he did the ones ahead broke apart, leaping through doors or scattering up the street to most likely cut him off farther ahead. The coordination was terrifying. He so much preferred the mindless rotted things that had attacked him in Dunwerth. The second time he found his way blocked, waves of ice chilled Devin’s blood. They were herding him. Three ahead, two chasing from behind. Fighting all five simultaneously while surrounded could be a fatal disadvantage. He followed the path they laid for him, and it led to what he feared: a thin dead-end road surrounded by tall homes on all sides. A sixth mute patiently waited atop the dead-end wall, and though its lips were buried beneath red scarred flesh, its cheeks tilted upward and its eyes twinkled with a distinctly human delight.

  These corrupted humans made no noise, they bared no fangs, and they wielded no claws. Yet of all the things Devin had faced thus far, these frightened him the most, for their eyes still shone with human intelligence. Devin spun in place, trying to track each of the six mutes that had chased him into the dead end. Two cut off his retreat, while three others lurked in windows and balconies.

  “Come on, you bastards,” Devin whispered. “Make a move.”

  The one atop the wall waited as perfectly still as a stone gargoyle. Pale eyes in a bald face hovered in the window on the upper floor to his left. Two more huddled mutes lurked at the edge of the balcony on his right, the walls of the building creaking from their weight. As for his two chasers, they crouched on their hands and knees, absurd hounds eager to charge their cornered prey. They breathed through their nostrils, the wheeze of their rising and falling chests their only sound.

  Six corrupted humans, only one bullet in the barrel, and no time to reload for a second shot. His sword would have to handle the other five. Devin’s eyes swept the perimeter once more. So be it. If the monsters were waiting for him to make the first move, then he’d use it to secure whatever advantage he could.

  Devin’s pistol spun, his upper body twisting to fire at the lone mute atop the wall. His shot blasted through its jaw and tumbled it off the other side. Before the smoke had even left his barrel Devin sprinted for the wall. He had to get his back to it. He had to prevent himself from being surrounded. The two on the street charged first, launching themselves with both hands and feet into a weaving, unsteady sprint.

  Devin didn’t slow as he neared the wall. The creatures were close, so close. He could hear their wheezing inhalations. He could smell the stink of the bloody flesh sealing over their mouths. He dropped his pistol and drew his sword with both hands. Devin ran straight to that wall and then up it two steps, twisting his body to face his chasers. His turn gave tremendous power to his sword, its wide arc cleaving the nearest monster in half at the chest.

  When Devin landed, he shoved the blade forward, impaling the second creature as it leap
t for him with long, reaching fingers. His killing blow pierced through the sealed flesh over the mouth, and blood gushed from the opening as the body dropped limp. Devin put his foot on the mute’s forehead and kicked his sword free. Two more of the corrupted humans had already leapt from above, and he could not spare a second’s delay.

  Both landed mere feet from him, crumbling as they hit the ground in a tangle of twisting limbs. Like macabre contortionists they kicked and flailed as they got to their feet and charged. Devin had never faced a foe remotely like this, knew of no proper technique or defense against such wild, reckless assaults. He swung his sword as if chopping through a tangled section of weeds. A foot and arm went flying. Blood sprayed wildly. It didn’t even slow their combined momentum.

  They both managed to wrap hands around Devin’s neck. Knees slammed his stomach and groin, elbows his face and chest. Blood from severed limbs dripped across his coat, thick and cold. The chaotic flurry of blows left Devin gasping for air that would not come. His eyes met those of one of the mutes, and he saw that it experienced immense pleasure at his suffering.

  Fight through the pain! he inwardly screamed.

  Devin swung his sword upward, breaking off their hands at the wrists. They separated cleanly… but their severed hands did not relent in their suffocating grip. Horror blanked his vision. Devin’s sword hit the dirt and he immediately reversed its direction for another swing. He felt brief contact as his sword hit their bodies, but he could not see through the clouding of his vision. He could only rely on what he heard, that of breaking flesh and bone.

  Devin staggered forward, the onslaught finally abating. He yanked the hands from his neck, gasping as he flung one of them to the dirt. A gargle turned his head right. A mute rushed for him with its arms spread wide as if in need of an embrace. The left half of its face had been cleaved off by his blind swing, exposing bone and a naked eyeball weeping pus. Devin didn’t quite dodge so much as drop to one knee and turn his shoulder. The corrupted thing grabbed air and then stumbled over Devin’s body. It fell, and Devin severed its spine to put an end to it.