Soul Weaver: A Fantasy Novel (7 page)

“His men will be watching for any sign of danger,” protested Kal, drawing another grunt and a serious-faced nod from Maul. “They'll be paranoid, hard to sneak up on, and ready for a fight.”

“All true,” said Rez. “But they won’t know about our secret weapon.”

“Secret weapon?” echoed Kal blankly.

“That’s right.” Rez paused, sucking in his bottom lip and watching Kal closely before he continued. “Aemond is dead.”

“You're not serious!” It was Maul who figured it out first, and the giant dropped his arms and jerked forward in surprise. “Rez, she’s an untried girl!”

“Who just so happens to possess all the knowledge and abilities of our late friend,” argued Rez. “Why do you think I've had Sanook pushing her so hard? She’s got to be ready in time. She
will
be ready in time.”

***

The long-bladed knife thunked into the wall inches from Shel’s head. She darted out of the way, diving and rolling across the floor as a series of blunt projectiles tracked her and slammed against the flagstones. Pottery shattered. A lamp made of brass and iron dented slightly on one side as they bounced away. A trio of knives struck sparks as they glanced off the stone floor. Shel kept moving.

She came out of the roll, springing to her feet and flinging up both hands. This was the hardest part. She envisioned a smoky extension of herself, a tendril of pure spirit emerging from the palms of her hands. She willed the invisible energy to stretch out and grab hold of two of the knives. She could almost feel the rough leather strips wrapped tightly round their hilts, as if she were holding them with her own hands.

Jerking her hands up and back, she pulled. The knives responded, leaping up off the floor and hurling themselves across the training room at Shel’s attacker.

Sanook, still in his heavy robes and mask, simply waved one arm in a lazy gesture. The rocketing knives struck an invisible barrier in mid-air, still more than a dozen feet from the Shadowman. They bounced off the shield and fell to the floor.

Shel grunted in irritation, but didn’t dare waste too much time on her disappointment. She was already moving, reaching out with her Soulweaving to find another weapon. There was a heavy brazier in one corner, its brass bowl full of simmering coals. Shel wrapped her mystical energy around its slender strut and lifted the entire brazier off the ground.

Brow furrowed in concentration, Shel manipulated the brazier. She wanted to fling it at the Shadowman like a spear, with the bowl full of burning coals striking first. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she quickly turned the brazier in the air and sent it flying.

Before she had even released her hold on the burning spear, a seemingly solid mass of air slammed into her from the side. Shel lost her grip on the brazier and it clattered to the floor, spilling its smoking coals all over the flagstones. Shel was thrown off balance, slamming painfully into the wall. Before she could recover, she felt the air wrap itself around her legs and tighten. Gripped by nothing more than air, Shel was pulled feet first toward the center of the room where another gust of air lifted her up toward the ceiling.

She attempted to match Sanook’s first attack, sending a solid wall of air flying toward the Shadowman, but her arms were caught in bonds of air and pressed tightly against her sides before she could complete the weaving.

He’d beaten her again. Shel relaxed and waited for Sanook to release her.

“No,” the Shadowman snapped. “Don’t give up, child.”

Shel scowled; they’d been at this for more than a week and he still insisted on calling her “child” or “girl” at every opportunity. He knew how much it irritated her. That was probably why he did it.

“Let me down,” she said through clenched teeth. “And I'll show you who’s a child.”

“If you are not a child,” answered Sanook calmly, “then you can get yourself down.”

“But you've got me trussed up like a bird for the pot,” complained Shel.

“I have restrained your body, child.” Sanook’s voice was even and unruffled, but there was a slight emphasis on the last word. Shel bristled again. She thought she heard the Shadowman sigh softly behind his gilded mask.

“Think of your soul as a muscle,” he instructed her patiently. “It is a muscle many never flex, but you have learned to stretch this muscle. It must come naturally to you. And you must remember that when you exert this muscle you impose your will on the physical – but this muscle itself isn’t physical. Do you understand?”

“I think so.” In truth, it puzzled her. She truly did think she understood, but it was such a strange concept. It was real, but it wasn’t real. She had never bothered herself so much with metaphysical ideas, and the notion of a spiritual muscle didn’t come easily to her.

“Then get yourself out of this purely physical trap,” Sanook said, folding his arms across his robed chest.

“But I can’t,” Shel said, painfully aware of how close to whining her voice sounded. “Your soul powers are holding me – it’s different.”

“It isn’t different,” the Shadowman told her. “You are being held by air. Nothing but air. I am controlling the air with my soul, but it isn’t my soul itself that binds you. Do you understand?”

Shel didn’t answer. Instead, she clenched her teeth tight in concentration and tried to envision the solidified bands of air that held her trapped in mid-air. She imagined the knots Sanook had tied around her, and pictured her soul as a misty white field of energy that couldn’t be confined. She pictured tendrils of this energy, picking apart the Shadowman’s knots.

“Good!” Sanook said, sensing her effort.

Shel grinned, still picking at the knots. She wasn’t using all of her energy for the task, so she imagined another tendril of energy that spread around her body. It covered her completely, but stayed inside the tightly woven bands of air. Now she pressed outward, forcing the bonds away from her skin.

Without warning, Sanook sent a dozen fists of air to pummel her from every side at once. Shel cried out in surprise and anger. She glared at the Shadowman and for a moment she hated him, hated his lessons and his mastery over her. That bitter feeling crystallized in her mind and she willed it at him without thinking.

Midway between them, a pocket of air burst suddenly into flame. The fireball hurled itself at the Shadowman, who flung himself out of the way at the last moment. The encircling bands of air that held Shel suspended over the floor evaporated all at once and she fell with a surprised cry.

When Shel picked herself up, she saw the Shadowman rising to his feet and dusting off his robes. Beneath his cowled hood, the gilded mask had slipped and now she saw a portion of his face revealed. Seeing the direction of her gaze, Sanook hurriedly adjusted the mask – but not before Shel saw the intricate markings that covered his forehead.

Shel’s mouth fell open in recognition. The marks!

Behind her, the door to the chamber was thrown open and Rez strode imperiously into the room. He eyed the pair of them speculatively as he entered. Seeing him, Shel forgot about Sanook’s markings for a moment and focused on the leader.

She hadn’t seen much of Rez this past week. Sanook had kept her busy with training and exercises. She could feel the power of her soul now; she could feel that part of herself that had once been Aemond, and she was both excited and frightened by the possibilities it presented. She could sense something more in the depths of her mind, some further echo of the dead Shadowman that teased her with a seemingly endless wealth of knowledge and power.

Now that Rez was standing right here before her, Shel could sense something else. She sensed the leader’s own power, and she was in awe of it.

“You have so many,” she whispered, staring wide-eyed at Rez.

He had been about to speak, but now Rez blinked in surprise and closed his mouth with an audible
click
of teeth snapping together. Cocking his head slightly to one side, he looked at Shel curiously.

Shel returned the look, but she was seeing Rez with different eyes now. Rather, she was
sensing
him with her inner, more spiritual senses. He was more powerful even than Sanook. So many souls…But where had he gotten so many?

“I see you've been learning,” Rez broke the silence first. He turned to Sanook. “Is she ready?”

“She needs more time,” the Shadowman said, moving closer to the leader and the young student. “She has an admirable grasp of the basics. And just now she did something…”

The Shadowman trailed off, peering through the eye-slits of his gilded mask at Shel. He had clearly been impressed by her fireball. Shel realized she didn’t know how she’d done it. Would she ever be able to repeat the trick? There was so much she needed to learn…

“But she isn’t ready,” Sanook continued, giving voice to the doubts Shel felt but didn’t want to speak aloud. “She needs more time, more training.”

“I'm afraid we're out of time,” said Rez. “The Conclave has been summoned, and the archons heed their master’s call. Thorne and his men march the old King’s Road.”

“Thorne.” Sanook said the name slowly, thoughtfully. He peered at Rez through his mask. Shel couldn’t tell what the Shadowman was thinking, and she felt like she was missing something.

“Who’s Thorne?” she asked.

Rez chuckled. “You see, old friend? She wants to know more. She’s ready enough.”

Sanook didn’t answer. He stood with his arms crossed, and somehow without speaking or showing his face the Shadowman managed to convey his disapproval. Nevertheless, he was apparently unwilling to contradict the leader.

“I hope you're right,” was all he would say.

“Thorne is one of the imperial archons,” Rez explained to Shel, putting an arm around her shoulders and guiding her toward the door. “The high nobility of the empire. Patriarchs of the great families. Once, long ago before the endless summer, their families ruled the various kingdoms of the land. Now they serve the emperor and tend to his realm while he secludes himself in the depths of his palace.”

“And you want us to attack this Thorne?” asked Shel as they walked down the corridor outside the training chamber. The main hall was behind them; she didn’t know where Rez was taking her.

“That’s right,” the leader confirmed. “It has been a long time since he last visited the capital. All of the archons are rich in souls. They’d have us believe they are all powerful weavers, but the truth is only a handful of them know anything at all about weaving. Still, they have the souls.”

“So,” Shel said slowly. “Not everyone with a collection of souls is able to use them?”

“That’s right.” Rez glanced over his shoulder, but Sanook hadn’t followed them. “The Shadowmen, now, that’s a different story. Every man, woman, and child among their people can weave. But for the rest of us, it does not come easily or naturally. The archons pretend to be great sorcerers, but very few of them could even lift a candle from the table. None of them come close to matching the power of the emperor.”

“But they're all filthy rich,” guessed Shel. Rez halted in mid-stride, turning to face her. He looked surprised for a moment, and then he burst out in rich, hearty laughter.

“They certainly are,” he said when his laughter subsided. “But we're not after gold, Shel.”

“We're not?”

“Not in the slightest. Oh, there will be gold. But what I'm interested in are the souls.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You will.” Rez smiled and patted her shoulder; Shel hated that, but kept her irritation to herself. She wasn’t a child. She thought Rez understood that, though; after all, he wanted her to go along on this heist.

He led the way to the end of the corridor and opened a small door she had never noticed before. It led outside, to a narrow courtyard within the high stone wall that surrounded the abandoned fortress. Dappled sunlight warmed the air and tall grass waved in a gentle breeze. At the far end of the courtyard, Shel saw a heavily armored carriage. No team of horses was in evidence, but the carriage was otherwise complete. Heavy gilding decorated the richly lacquered wood. Even the sturdy wooden wheels were decorated, and gemstones glistened at their hubs. Rez pointed to the carriage.

“The archons buy and trade souls, even though most of them can’t use the souls. They're status symbols more than anything else. But for the emperor, the souls are vital. Without souls, he can’t maintain the Long Summer. Without souls, he couldn’t rule. But the emperor is a very busy man. He demands tribute from his archons. Whenever a Conclave is summoned, it means one thing. The emperor needs new souls to replenish his power.”

Understanding blossomed in Shel’s mind. “So these archons are all bringing souls to give the emperor!”

“That’s right, Shel. Thorne is one of the most powerful of all the archons. His tribute will be the largest. You see that carriage? It’s a replica of one that we'll find among the archon’s convoy. In that carriage, he will transport at least a hundred souls to lay at our glorious emperor’s feet. Except they'll never reach their destination. We're going to steal them. Actually,
you're
going to steal them.”

Shel lay prone on the ground just beneath the crest of a high ridge of earth overlooking the old King’s Road. The ancient highway of smooth-worn stone stretched from the capital in the south to the northernmost regions of the empire. No one remembered who had built it, or when, but the King’s Road had survived a hundred generations of travelers. It would likely survive a hundred generations more.

The sun had risen less than an hour ago. A thin mist clung to the ground, wrapping languorously about the narrow trunks of the trees making up the thicket in which the gang was hiding. They kept low, out of sight of the road.

From her position at the ridge crest, Shel could see the road if she lifted her head. Rez was nearby, peering down at the road cautiously. Sanook was with him. Rez whispered something to the Shadowman, and Sanook nodded before backing away from the crest and crawling toward Shel.

“The convoy approaches,” he whispered when he was close. “There are many armsmen. I will lead the others in distracting them. You and Rez will go after the souls. Are you ready?”