The Soul Refiner Bk. 01 Ch. 25-27

Chapter 25

When the attack came, it was so perfectly ill-timed that I knew we were being observed. Myta and I were exhausted from the effort to expand her spirit body. Myta was not the only fighter we had, but she was far and away the best. Alarm horns roused the camp at least, sonwe hadn't been caught entirely unawares. I stumbled to my feet in Tarun's household shrine, completely naked, and reeking of sex. My vas didn't even stir, so exhausted that even the bellowing horns and the early screams from outside couldn't wake her.

I was exhausted myself, but at least I still had some mana remaining. Myta was terribly vulnerable, and I was loathe to leave her. But the enemy were likely to have a sorcerer with them, and no one else in the camp was prepared to face off against one.

*Peace, veth. I will tend to this.* Ket uncurled herself from where she lay at near the entrance of the room. *Fighting for you is not part of my task, but I will not let such disrespect for the ceremony of becoming to pass. You may repay me later, by showing me how to track these vermin.*

With that, the spirit was gone. Settling back down, I opened my spiritual eye as wide as I could. While I didn't know Ket's true capabilities, she had felt supremely confident, and my precious flame still needed protecting. Even aside from her exhaustion and depleted mana reserves, her newly formed anima was still weak, and soft.

Ket was a blur to my spiritual sight. I had known that she carried some aspect of blood, but now she was shrouded in shadow, or mystery. Her concealment was not as complete as that of a ward, but tracking her was not too different than following the wake of one. She was more of a moving distortion than a presence. I felt the sorcerer I'd expected as well. I was certain they were the one who has assaulted Myta in Nesratin. Their sprit still carried the marks of my attack, their lancet had been cut away completely, to allow them to heal the wound. My attack against them had been filled with rage and killing intent, and they must not have been skilled enough to cleanse the wound. I took a grim satisfaction in knowing they'd had to maim themselves to survive.

All around the estate, I could sense that enemies had tried to move through the perimeter, but their scout had apparently underestimated the effectiveness of our traps. The spirits of many men were surging with pain and fear, and I could sense the caustic fire essence of the demon brambles affecting the majority of those. Our flanks were safe, for the time being at least. There was a real combat taking place on the entrance road, however. I couldn't tell much about how it was going, none of those who were fighting had distinctive enough spirits for me to identify them. As the battle continued, it stirred up the local mana, filling the area with swirling clouds of anger, pain, and fear aspected mana. Obscuring the battlefield further.

That wasn't where I wanted to focus in any case. Ket slipped around the battle, making her way straight toward the enemy sorcerer. Chances were they had mundane guards, but if so their presence was overshadowed by the oily aura of the more dangerous opponent. They had a fairly well developed spirit, or at least a fairly substantial one. The clarity and strength of their anima left much to be desired. All the better for us.

I expected Ket to project her mana, perhaps rend the enemy with projections of blood. It would be difficult without a physical focus, but if there were guards as I suspected, then drawing the first drop of blood would be easy enough. Instead, I was able to witness something I had never seen before. The leopard spirit gathered up all her presence to her skin, somehow infusing the extra mana into the anima that defined her shape. It became so dense, so heavy, that it warped the natural mana of the forest around it, drawing it in like a whirlpool. I took a moment to understand what had happened. Ket had incarnated.

Now physical, the cat burst into action, confirming my assumption of guards by pulling one off into the woods. I was sure these warriors had weapons of the same quality as we had looted, weapons capable of harming a spirit, but from what I saw this one never had a chance to use them. Ket dragged them into the wood, and took far too much time in killing them. She absorbed all the essence of blood, and fear, that was produced. Restoring whatever strength she had used to manifest. My throat went dry, and I struggled for a moment to swallow. Ket was able to harvest mana from another's death. She was a reaper, which meant she was even more dangerous than I'd given her credit for.

She pulled a few more guards away, drawing each into the woods in turn. I had the distinct impression that she was playing with them, which was only to be expected, she was a cat, after all. The sorcerer tried to flee, and the spirit gave chase, clearly drawing out the hunt. Eventually they passed beyond my spiritual sense, and I turned my attention back to the estate.

It was still difficult for me to determine how the battle on the road was faring. But I could tell that Tarun had joined the conflict, rallying his guards. My familiarity with him allowed me to pick out his spirit. His mana was calm and controlled, though that didn't tell me much. Despite his relatively casual demeanor, the captain had a will of iron. I doubted I'd sense much distress from him before the battle was hopelessly lost. What I did learn was that most of the enemy who had been encircling out perimeter had given up. They seemed to be heading back toward the road. I took that as a good sign. The entranceway front seemed to have nearly the same number of combatants, and I felt that if our side had lost enough men for that math to work out, we would already have been overrun. I could sense our wounded inside the camp, clearly those who had borne the brunt of the initial assault, sent to recover when more of our fighters were roused from their slumber. I wanted to go and provide care, but there was a more pressing concern.

Not all of the enemy had abandoned our perimeter defenses. A group was gathering on the far side of our camp, opposite the road. They had managed to make their way through the demon bramble, and our sentries should locate the group soon. I wasn't inclined to wait, however. The intruding force was too close to my location, and Myta too vulnerable. If the enemy had been waiting to attack until now, then she and I were likely the primary targets. Tarun's home had a back entrance off the kitchen, and I made my way there swiftly. Short of there being a sorcerer deeply skilled in stealth with them, I could handle this group myself.

The kitchen was redolent with spices. Tarun didn't maintain a large staff, but he prioritized his food. The scent of turmeric hung heavy in the air tonight, and I had to suppress a sneeze as I passed through. The back courtyard was airy and clean, so I took a few precious moments to clear my sinuses. I was no master of stealth, but even I knew that sniffling in the darkness would give away my approach. The back gate was latched, and rather than open it and risk a screech of its hinges, I went over the wall. Even the least physical of sorcerers benefited from an enhanced physique, and the wall was only a few feet taller than my head, so I was able to ascend with little difficulty.

I made my way across the yard, light enough on my feet to avoid stumbling in the dark. I was no spirit, to guide myself by mana alone. Even so, a sliver of moonlight gave me just enough light to manage, The area just around the building had a broad yard of cleared space, no doubt to hinder nighttime skulkers. Probably wise, but I deeply regretted Tarun's tendency toward security right now.

Refocusing on my spiritual sight, my heart leapt to my throat. I had hoped the infiltration party might head toward the battle, to flank Tarun's forces. Instead they had moved toward the house, toward the back entrance. They were practically on top of me, and only luck, and the fact that they were also seeking to avoid attention, had prevented me from running straight into them. I raced toward the other side of the courtyard, trying to put the curving wall between us. Every step I took seemed thunderous in my ears, but I didn't stumble.

In moments the enemy were at the back gate. This close, I could see their spirits distinctly. A half-dozen soldiers, none of them with any great spiritual strength. They were professional, however, immediately beginning to help one another over the wall after confirming that the gate was closed and latched. I edged closer to them, trying to keep the arc of the wall between us, while extending my lancet.

For me the lancet was a tool of healing, but I had never been blind to its potential as a weapon. Over the years, I had extended the meridian it was attached to, a long and painful process that gave it a reach of about thrice my own height. Not quite enough to reach the enemy without coming into sight of them. But enough to keep me mostly concealed at least. I targeted the man being boosted over the wall first, and the whisper thin blade shot forward like a striking cobra, splitting his root. The man fell, trying to muffle his cry of pain, legs suddenly unsteady.

For those who were not trained, not conscious of their spirits, a wound like this was a terrifying mystery. The victim felt a sharp, burning pain, followed by sudden and debilitating weakness, as their mana bled out. Without sorcerous intervention, such wounds were invariably fatal. I spared no more attention for the dead man. That he was still moving, and gasping in pain, was only of benefit to me. He kept his compatriots distracted while I began picking them off, one by one. I targeted their throats now, disabling their voices in the process. I wanted them to stay confused as long as possible.

It couldn't last forever. By the time I'd claimed my fourth victim, the remaining two men spotted me. They charged, swinging heavy tulwars at me. The edges of the thick, curved blades were coated in some ominous fluid. I had the time for one last hasty strike with my lancet before they were up in me. Unfortunately the hurry disrupted my aim. I managed to slash the core meridian of one, but not one of their nodes. A fatal wound, but not a quick one. Then I was lost in dodging the slashing blades.

I could have run, outdistancing the men easily, but I had no guarantee they would follow me, rather than descending on my helpless slave. So I began to cry the alarm, while trading blows with them. Inner Harmony was not a path intended to fight armed men, but I withdrew my lancet into my arm, and deflected or avoided the enemy's strikes, waiting for my opening to finish this. I found my moment as the injured man weakened and slowed, splitting the node in his belly after stepping inside a particularly wild slash. But he collapsed against me, causing me to stumble, and before I could recover I was overcome with a wave of weakness.

My mana bled from me in an instant, ripped forcefully from my spirit. I fell to the ground, pinned by the now-unmanageable weight of the dying man, and my last foe raised his weapon to finish me.

Chapter 26

Internally I cursed and screamed defiance, as the curved blade of my enemy's sword raised above my head. I was groggy and weak, and all I could think was that I had missed an enemy sorcerer. Only an incredibly powerful soul sorcerer could have drained me so quickly and completely. I would die with a river steel blade in my skull pinned ignominiously beneath a thrashing body. And Myta would follow me soon after, drained of her own mana, shackled to my spirit's corpse.

If I'd had any mana left, I might have become a true spirit, kept her alive a bit longer at least. That might not have been a bad afterlife. I could see myself, standing beside her, guiding and protecting her as a bound wraith. Neither of us would be alone again at least.

My disjointed thoughts, and impending death, were interrupted by the sound of rending metal. My opponent spun away, and though I couldn't see what was happening, the area became as bright as day, golden sunlight somehow kissing the ground around me. My would-be executioner stumbled backward, tripping over the body atop me, which had finally stilled. His head disappeared a moment later, utterly consumed by a ray of golden fire.

My mind finally caught up with my senses, as my glorious vas tossed aside the corpses that were pinning me down. Her presence took the form of metallic golden flames, a near perfect fusion of our aspects. Her righteous fury dimmed as she checked me over, seeing that I was unharmed. I could feel that she was on the edge of an emotional cliff, about to tumble over.

"No time for that," I told her firmly. "Go to the road and aid the fight. We'll have time after the battle is done." I drew a bit of mana from her, though not too much, and touched the silver marking that blazed on her neck. Pushing away her turmoil, she nodded resolutely, charging off to finish the battle. Her focused wrath returned, but I didn't have it in me to pity those soon-to-be corpses. These men had almost taken her from me, and I would neither forget nor forgive.

The battle was over by the time I made my way up to help the wounded. I had hoped some would flee, perhaps make it easier to trace their camp. Instead they died to the last man. Either they were fanatics, or more terrified of their superiors than they were of death. The sorcerer Ket had hunted proved no more useful, panicking so thoroughly that he became lost in the woods. She finally killed him, after an hour's chase. The sorcerer did allow us to finally confirm our enemy, however.

"There are other people who use those brands," Tarun said, looking at the forearms of the mangled mess the spirit had returned to us. She'd dragged it into camp like a proud housecat with a dead rat. We'd assembled to examine the body, several hours after the attack.

"They are very rare in this region however, almost no one but the Pure use them anymore." I replied. "Could we take this to the capital now? Would this be enough for Ramana to intervene?"

"Probably," the captain admitted. "The king knows as well as anyone how much the Pure hate him, but we have a bigger problem.

"You killed a score of men when your caravan was attacked. There's another two score, and a sorcerer here. But we've still seen no sign of the demon you expected. If the Pure are making a real push here, then they have enough men in the region to hold Bani. And likely agents within the city, to let them inside the gates. If we move to the capital now, I promise you it will trigger an immediate assault. They've invested too much in these plans to back down now."

"Then what is to stop them from attacking immediately anyway?" Myta asked. "We've disrupted their plan already. Their last real chance for subtlety ended with our survival."

"Nothing," Tarun growled. "But in this moment we have a chance to preserve the city. If we run to Ramana, it will all be over before there's any chance to respond."

"So what can we actually do here?" I asked. "If avoiding the city leads to a bloodbath, we need to warn Bani instead. Will they listen to us? You were drummed out Tarun, will the corpse be enough to convince them?"

"Ramana keeps a minister in each city, to keep the governors honest. If I can convince the minister, then Bani'kari will be forced to move. But, we have another opportunity here." He cast Myta a prompting glance, one I myself had used with my own students.

"A force large enough to hold Bani... would be hundreds of men." She answered his glance after a few moments. "They can't all be in the woods here, or the city would know about them. They might be in ships nearby, or somewhere isolated enough to hide. If we can tie up their command, we may be able to delay their attack for awhile. Long enough to shore up defenses, or call for aid."

"Precisely." The captain nodded. "Unfortunately we can expect the local group to have their most elite fighters. None of my men are prepared to face Pure monks." He eyed us meaningfully.

Myta's eyes blazed, literally. "No, absolutely not. Last night was already far... "

"Myta." My stern tone caused her to cut off abruptly, nearly choking on her words. I looked back at Tarun. "I will know where the attackers came from soon, and what we are dealing with there. If it is not a suicidal mission, we will engage the camp. Can I count on some of your men there?"

"Of course, Esur'uk. After Mytan's showing last night, I couldn't keep them away if I wanted to. I suspect some, if not all of the caravan guards feel the same." I held in a sigh at the honorific he gave me. My facade of simple healer, thin as it had been, was completely shattered by the four uninjured bodies I'd left in my wake.

"We have a little time, at least. Which is important, as Myta and I need to recover. I'll let you know when we are prepared to leave." I turned on my heel, and headed to our room, Myta trailing behind. Her emotions were a swirling mess of worry and shame, and I needed to pull her out of them, quickly.

"Master, I'm sorry! I just..." my vas was speaking even before the door to our room closed, but I cut her off again with a raised hand.

"I'm not angry, my flame. I know that you are worried for my safety. That you wish to protect me. Trust me, I have no desire to put our lives at undue risk. But, I have other goals and needs, Myta. And I will not be driven away from them, not even for your sake. Do you understand?"

She was quiet for a time, contemplating my words.

"Master, have you not been putting aside your own goals to preserve your life and freedom for some time?" Myta wasn't angry, or upset, but she was feeling uncertain.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"I can tell that you love teaching me, I feel the depth of your knowledge in regard to sorcery and the spirit. But you haven't put in even a little effort into improving your own, you haven't even thought about it, as far as I can see. You enjoy healing people, helping people, but it isn't your love. So what is it about this fight, this struggle, that makes it worth your life?"

"Our lives." I muttered, thrown by her question.

"Master?"

"Worth our lives. If I die, the bond will likely drain you spirit. Killing you in short order, unless it's transferred to another." Myta seemed to relax at my comment, which was the opposite of what I'd have expected. I was too disturbed to pay it much mind, however. Her words had struck me like a hammer to a bell, and my thoughts were still ringing. For decades I'd wandered Ramana now, eking out a living doing work I was vastly overqualified for. She was right, when was the last time I'd learned something new, or even attempted to advance my spirit or skills? I was living vicariously through my vas right now, taking my satisfaction in seeing her advance, so why was I doing this?

I could say I was following Kubek's demand, but that was an excuse. The god had only required that I discover the source of the contagion. I'd done that already, the culpability of the Pure was clear, and Ket was hunting their precise location right now. The favor he'd promised for disrupting the contagion would just be a bonus, not worth our lives. I could just move on, if I chose to. Escape the Pure, and their plots, yet again.

"I'm tired of running." I hadn't thought the words before I said them, but I felt their truth on my lips. "The Pure betrayed me, betrayed you, and now I have a chance to take from them. Not just vengeance, but restitution. We can hurt them, while also claiming the means to advance ourselves."

I stopped, and faced Myta, meeting her gaze evenly. My hand came up, and I'd meant to cup her chin, but instead found myself resting my fingers on her neck. Her collar marking had grown more pronounced, more detailed and vivid with each advancement of her spirit. Now it looked like silver wires on her skin, a rippled pattern that shifted moment to moment like light playing through flowing silver water. It was beautiful, and mine.