The shard provided dim light as they walked through the Sun barrier, down the stairs, and into the inky blackness, but it only illuminated the interior of the Seal’s shield. All else remained hidden.
The protection trembled against the oppressiveness of it. Everything it touched would sink into nothingness, blighted by emptiness that was not a physical or magical weight, but a grievous burden all the same. Hope fled, and Vantra spiraled into choking dread.
They brushed through a white something; an essence. Oh no! Had they just smeared a ghost out of existence? What would happen to them, for ending a spirit?
Nothing. The discorporated are already gone.
“Back, are you?” Vesh breathed as Vantra pushed mentally back at the unwanted words.
The end of ghosts created an entrance for the Void, Rezenarza murmured. Yut-ta jerked and sucked in a breath; why did the ex-Darkness speak to him as well? It will not disappear until you do as Veer asks.
“How are you reaching us?” Vesh asked, his voice steady. She envied his poise in the dire circumstance. “I lost contact with Veer as soon as we stepped into the void.”
I slipped in before the boundaries were set. The enemy is not as clever as they wish.
Something about the way he said it struck her. “You’re here, aren’t you?”
Here? I am between, in the harbor of spirits. If you wish to reach me, that is where I am.
Reach him?
“He plays games?” Yut-ta asked, clacking his beak.
Games? No. The Void threatens the forest, and I hold the shadows of the branches dear. Perhaps, as a living being, you don’t know the between, but the two ghosts have felt its Touch. They straddle it to exist.
“So the place where the discorporated go?” Vantra asked as they stepped over more essences. How many had perished there? Had they been attempting to escape and failed? Or had they become greddels because ryiam had not dissipated?
“Are there any beings left here?” Vesh asked, his voice hardening.
Yes and yes. They cluster together, but their protections falter. If you wish to save the acolytes, you must hurry.
The shield shuddered. Vesh frowned and shuffled to the side; a still form scraped along the surface, rocking at the bumping. Patterned fabric caught on the thorns and pulled, ripping.
Yut-ta caught his breath, and she grasped his hand, hoping to comfort him. “There aren’t many of us, but some umbrareign live here,” he whispered. “I think that’s the cook.”
How horrible! “I’m sorry, Yut-ta.”
“If Rudarig’s responsible for this . . .” He ground his beak, bleakness and fury combining to wrinkle his eyes. His grip crushed her fingers, and she was grateful she did not have to worry about pain.
“If he is, the Final Death awaits,” Vesh promised.
They bumped into a wall, when Vantra thought they proceeded straight; they skimmed it via Yut-ta’s instructions until they reached the base of a sculpture. The block was as tall as her waist, and thick robes concealed the feet. The hooskine peered up, then into the darkness.
“That’s one of the statues at the entrance to the nave. We can follow the wall or head straight. A Sun in the center of the carpet has one ray that runs down the aisle, and directly to the podium.”
“We’ll take the wall,” Vesh said. “I doubt anyone caught in this spell was using it for a guide.”
Vantra shuddered, and Yut-ta made a small mew sound.
Vesh picked up the pace as they skimmed the wall. They ran into smashed vases and withered flowers, knocked around overturned side tables, bumped into benches lying at odd angles. A fight had taken place, but with whom? Had the Sun acolytes battled the changelings? If not, the corrupted roots? Vantra nervously scoured the darkness, searching for glowing eyes or a blur of movement, but the ominous atmosphere did not waver. Could anything survive its touch?
They encountered stairs and climbed up, but the shield bumped into something, rocked, and did not move further. She could sense the gemray, faint, as if she viewed it from a great distance rather than a few strides away.
“We hit a shield,” Vesh murmured. “It’s not formed from Sun or those roots. I think it’s Nature-centric. In any case, mine can’t get through.”
“Do you think Nature acolytes made it to the altar?” Vantra asked.
“Someone’s there. Rezenarza mentioned them.”
“There’s a podium in the center, and the altar is in back, with the gemray above it, embedded in a golden sun,” Yut-ta whispered. “We’re two steps away.”
An odd squishy sound came from behind. They whirled; a blot latched onto the shield, the underside reflecting green from the shard’s light. The Seal brightened then dimmed as the thing sucked at the energy; she could see the purple wisps flow into it and disappear.
“Death’s Breath,” Vesh muttered. The rose faded, and he formed another beneath it; both flared, then dimmed as the blot drank in what the Darkness acolyte used to replenish the original Seal.
You need to reach the gemray, Rezenarza said. Vantra twitched, but neither Vesh nor Yut-ta reacted, just stared at the thing in horror. Veer was right about that.
And how might she do that? They could not bypass the shield!
I told you where I am, he reminded her. Yes, but how would that help? Unless he meant she could reach the gemray from there.
“That’s acting like a greddel,” Vesh muttered. “Only it leans to Darkness, so the power it’s sucking isn’t damaging it.”
“I need to get to the gemray.” Vantra held the shard to her chest. “If I go, you’ll be left in darkness.”
“And the attack might strengthen once Sun isn’t visible.” Vesh looked at Yut-ta, who stared grimly back. “Form a Sun shield. I’ll link it to the Seal. That won’t hold, but if you hurry, you should be able to cast Clear Rays before it eats through. The shield on the stairs might cause problems, though. It has a floor, probably to prevent the roots from punching up.”
Vantra closed her eyes and formed a barrier, infusing it with as much Sunfire as she could. Was that enough to protect them until she reached the gemray?
It will have to be, Rezenarza breathed through her.
How fast could he get her to the altar?
Fast enough. Phase through the bottom of the shield; I’ll catch you.
She did not trust him. She hated relying on him, but she had little choice. They could not stay under Seal, the blot eating the energy until it broke through. With a quick prayer to Sun, and doubting it would do any good, she turned Ether and sank into the floor.
Screeching tore through her, sharp fingers reaching for her. Arms wrapped around her and pulled her further down, into a quiet, twinkling space.
“Eager,” Rezenarza muttered. He grabbed her collar, and she screamed as he threw her—again!—and she sailed from dark into dim light.
She hit a dull golden sun with a gemstone the size of her fist in the center, her essence acting Physical rather than Ether-like. The gem rocked in the sunken hole it occupied, nearly falling. She formed a shield around her hands, caught it, shoved it back in, and smashed the shard into it. “Muevre pueplon virche!”
Brightness spun from the center, Sun rays rotating around it, shooting away in all directions. Deep power, something not from her, accompanied them, slicing through the corruption. Hunks broke apart, lit on fire, burned, before striking the floor and issuing puffs of grey ash, which blew away as a second round of rays, accompanied by harsh wind, soared past.
A soulful, guttural scream blared, with an abrupt cut-off. The rays dimmed, revealing Vesh and Yut-ta crouched on the stairs, the ghost protecting the hooskine with his fluctuating essence, and dozens of Sun acolytes huddled behind a line of whizen and changelings, who backed up from the sudden fall of their defense.
Vesh!
Vantra zipped to him and landed at his side as two elfine Nature acolytes joined her, worry plastered across their faces. One settled her hands on his back, and energy flowed into him; a healer?
“Vesh, what are you doing here?” the other asked, helping him fall away from Yut-ta.
“Getting Vantra to the gemray,” he whispered, then winced, setting a hand on his chest.
“I can’t believe you lasted that long against that corruption.” She patted the hooskine on the shoulder. “Did it touch you?”
“No, Vesh made certain it didn’t.”
“And Rezenarza helped,” the Darkness acolyte admitted.
“We felt him, just before she flew at the gemray,” the first admitted, propping him up against her raised knee. “Vantra, is it?”
She nodded.
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt Clear Rays so powerful.”
“Ema, Indrisa, meet Vantra and Yut-ta. They’re traveling with the mini-Joyful.” He sounded hoarse.
“Vesh, you’re discorporating!” the first said, panicked.
“He will not.” Rezenarza slapped his shoulder, enough Darkness magic accompanying the Touch to stabilize him. The Nature acolytes gasped, shocked, and Vantra rose, uncertain whether to confront him or not. He stepped past, aiming for a nymph who scurried back from the edge of the platform, eyes wide, hands up to ward him from the annoyed deity. He had fine robes of pale green, not a color associated with Sun, and matching gold shirt and pants. The wide bottoms reminded her of ancient depictions of mafiz from around seven thousand years previous, as did the spiral tattoo on his cheeks that bled into his pointed beard. Multiple gold rings ran up his large ears, and three sat at the ends of each eyebrow. His extra-thick, wavy black hair was held in a tail sitting on top of his head.
“You did this.” Yut-ta stalked to him, his face wrinkled in wrath. The nymph’s flicker of dislike disappeared in a whimper as the ex-Darkness continued to walk towards him. Rudarig? Who else would he single out?
“I didn’t do this,” he whined. “I didn’t know!”
“No?” Rezenarza asked in a deceptively mild tone. “I think you knew something of it. This temple is littered with those who met the Final Death, yet here you are, tucked away on this platform.”
“We have your signet ring,” Yut-ta seethed. “It fed greddels into the streets!”
Confusion crossed Rudarig’s face as he glanced at his jeweled hands. He wore so many rings, Vantra did not think if he lost one, he would realize it. “My ring?”
“And they all had Sun touch to them! Did you make the acolytes here into greddels?”
He blinked. “Greddels?”
“Unless you speak of Hrivasine and all you know, the Final Death will embrace you,” Rezenarza told him.
“Y-you can’t threaten me with that!”
“It is Erse Parr’s vengeance, on those who send a ghost to the Final Death without their consent.” He swept his hand to the nave. “We witnessed the transgression.”
“Whatever he did before, he helped us with the shield,” Ema said. “And I don’t think he expected the attack.”
“Perhaps not.” Rezenarza did not pause as sopping changelings poured into the hall, all wearing the Nature acolyte tunics. “But he knows something of Hrivasine’s connection to this.” The nymph bumped into the wall and the ex-Darkness slammed his palm against it, hard enough, the sun with its precious gemray quivered. “And he will tell us. Now.”
