Kwik had a plan, and from Darr’s point of view, a simple but dangerous one.
They needed to get a closer look at the mist, and the easiest way to do so would be in a straightforward manner. They would climb down the hills of the Norstag Plume to investigate. If the Seekers were present in the mists, Kwik believed he could get everyone clear before they noticed. If the Seekers found them first, it’d be up to Darr to come up with some sort of defense. Either way, the operation would be quick and stealthy.
They left behind everything except their weapons, stashing their gear with the horses. The little outcropping would be easy to find in the dark, but even as they moved their supplies, the overcast skies began to lift. When they started down the hill out of the Norstag Plume, the white wash of stars and moon gave them ample working light.
Below them, where the passage began its slothful journey north, the strange mist swirled in large clumps across the field like scum floating on the surface of a pond. Darr kept his senses sharp, and his ear to the Currents, ready to act at the first sign of danger.
Stepping into the passage, the topography changed suddenly. The grasses, knee-high in the Norstag Plume, came as high as Darr’s shoulders in the passage. Seeing more than a few yards ahead became impossible. His boots sunk into the soil beneath him, reminding him of the swamps around the Lowlands of Deron, especially with the swirling mists all around them.
“Creepy,” Jinn whispered in his ear, her words mirroring his thoughts.
Kwik silenced them with a hand gesture, his sharp features taut with concentration. He didn’t walk, he crept, his body coiled and prepared to move appropriately to whatever threatened. They walked for another few minutes through the long grasses, their movements fluid and quick.
Kwik brought them to a halt beneath a solitary oak, its massive trunk twisted, its limbs stretching to the sky. For several long minutes, the three stood beneath the tree. As one, they watched the darkness.
Nothing presented itself.
Kwik flicked two fingers beside his eye, signaling to Darr, asking if he detected anything. The Summoner shook his head, but worry caused his insides to freeze. The Currents remained unchanged, but his natural instincts screamed at him. Something was out of place. But how can that be? Whatever caused him anxiety in the physical world should carry to the spirit realm. The two worlds bound one to the other like images in a mirror, but he didn’t feel like he looked into a mirror.
No, this was like looking into a painting.
“It’s a trap,” Darr said. Jinn whipped her head around, as did Kwik. Their eyes reflected shock and doubt, but Darr cast it aside. Hesitation would be the end of them if they didn’t do something quickly. “We have to move. Kwik, go now.”
Kwik bolted into the tall grass, sprinting between the broken blades that marked their path in. Darr pushed Jinn in front of him, and together, they sprinted for the safety of the hills, running like frightened animals.
Something stalked them.
Something had found them.
All around them, a hiss began to permeate the air, like wind blowing through tree branches, slow and steady. The hissing came from every direction making it impossible to find its source. Darr quickened his pace and focused on getting away. Whatever stalked them nearly had them back at the trees. It wasn’t about to let them get away easily.
The swirling mists rose up in the distance to their right and left, rapidly closing on their flanks. Darr risked a glance backwards. Behind him, the mist rose up above the tall grass, closing on them like some bloodthirsty predator.
Jinn cried out, and Kwik leapt back beside her. His blade slid free from its sheath, and moonlight tinted steel flashed in the night. In the brief instant that he paused, Darr caught something moving in the closing mist. An icy shiver thrust its way into his body, blasting into the Currents far too late. In an explosion of desperation, the voices of the spirits came screaming into Darr’s head, the ruse no longer necessary.
They were already trapped.
Kwik lunged into the grass, whipping his blade upward. Ash blew across the Elf’s face and into Darr’s nostrils. Kwik lifted his head, meeting Darr’s gaze. “Seekers.” As if any doubt existed.
“Get to the hills. Go ahead of me,” Darr screamed.
They began running again in unison. Darr sprinted behind them, his thoughts focusing on the Currents, seeking help there in whatever form he could find. The spirit realm had become a radiating whirl of fear, anger, and confusion. Nothing had been what it seemed. The healing in the Currents over the last few days was a lie. Balance wasn’t returning to the Sephirs. If anything, they faced more danger than ever before.
Darr grit his teeth and powered on. The Devoid was close to finding its escape.
At the fringes of his vision, where the mists thickened, the Soul Seekers began to emerge. Their claws reached out to grab anything they could find, but Kwik and Jinn slipped past them easily. Darr charged ahead, balancing his attention between the world around him and the world in which he must stand and fight. The tall grasses whipped at his face, burning for mere seconds before he forgot about them.
The time had come. Darr stopped and wheeled about. His body merged with the Currents, letting the spirits pass through him. The white fire of the Light burned inside him. The mists closed in around him and dozens of Seekers sprang forward, their black-robed bodies stretching up into the night. Darr let them come, let them forget about Jinn and Kwik. The silver claws reached out for him, but Darr closed his eyes and shut them away.
The air crackled and radiant white erupted from the Summoner’s hands, miniature orbs dancing on each individual finger. Darr brought his hands to his chest. His instincts would guide the Light where it needed to go.
His eyes snapped open and he thrust one hand forward, the other back. The Light burned into the mass of Seekers closest to him, scattering their black forms and the mists that carried them. More Seekers attacked at his sides. Darr pushed them away with a shift of his arms. The Seekers exploded into the darkness, separating and dissolving their mists with them. He sent the white fire after his friends, covering their escape. Behind them, the Seeker mists reformed.
Darr pulled the Light back, steadying himself as a wave of dizziness overtook him. The Seeker mists continued towards him, far away for now, but they’d be on him again quickly.
He took a moment to catch his breath, to let the magic burn back into the Currents. The whirling in his head began to slow, energizing him as it did. His summonings came more easily now, more natural. Would Nidic Waq be proud?
Cold tightened within him. The mists gathered anew, quicker than he thought, their desperation to crush him tangible. He must be quick to reach the hills. The spirits confirmed they’d be safe enough. The Devoid grew desperate, not stronger. It could summon the Seekers, even hide them in the Currents, but it couldn’t stretch its creatures beyond the shelter of the Murmackding Passage. Darr ran, following the path left by Jinn and Kwik.
But the Devoid knew we’d come this way. It knew.
How could they journey ahead when the Devoid knew the moves they would make?
Kwik will know the way. Caeranol had promised when he told him Kwik’s place among the Chosen. Trust in him, Caeranol had told him. Let him lead, he will know. At the time, Caeranol was explaining how to find the Vedin Kael, but perhaps escaping the Seekers and finding the Vedin Kael were the same task.
Darr Reintol raised his head and smiled, not out of humor or happiness, but out of certainty. Without another thought, he fled into the night.
Kaeo shook out a ragged breath before gasping for another. His throat had gone numb and his lungs burned, but he lived, so he suffered through his discomfort. His breath erupted in angry clouds into the cold dawn air. His hands clenched at his knees where he knelt in the mud, the slick texture making it difficult to steady himself without digging his nails into the flesh beneath his pants. Beads of sweat ran down his face and the back of his neck. He shivered in response to the sudden chill beneath his tunic.
“We were searching the mires south of Jacova,” Kaeo said. He took another breath before continuing. “South, where the forest begins to pull apart...they warned us...”
Kaeo stopped talking, overcome by sudden images. Despite his thirty-odd years and nearly a lifetime spent in the wilderness, he wept.
“Easy, now, hunter,” the voice in the darkness soothed. “When you’re ready, tell me the rest of what happened.”
The calm in the other’s voice gave Kaeo focus. The images tearing their way through his mind stopped, swatted away by the commanding presence before him. He couldn’t be sure exactly who stood before him, shrouded in the lingering shadows of night, but he trusted this man. He must report what he’d seen. He couldn’t let his fears eat him alive.
Kaeo spit into the mud and cleared his throat. “Before we left Jacova, we were given strict instructions to avoid dark areas, areas that could conceal the Soul Seekers. We were told to look for the mists in which they hide, but we were told explicitly to avoid any areas that looked suspicious. They told us to return to Jacova and report at once if we found such areas.”
“Told so by whom?” the voice in the darkness asked.
“By Ariel Forn, the Cortazian King, and the Dwarf Elder Council. Didn’t you know?”
“Of course. I knew, Hunter,” the voice said. The words spilled out smoothly. “Continue with your report.”
Kaeo shivered forcefully, a result of the sweat soaking through his clothes chilled by the early morning air. “My captain was a brave man, but he didn’t believe in the Seekers. Even after hearing of the destruction in Navda, even after hearing of the savagery with which the Seekers fought, he didn’t believe.” Kaeo paused. Anger rose in his throat like bile and spilt from his lips. “How could he not believe? How could he disregard a direct order and believe his commander concocted fairy tales? How could he lead us so far astray without an ounce of regard for the orders he’d been given?”
“Calm yourself, Hunter,” the voice in the darkness urged. “Keep your head clear. Keep your thoughts focused and tell me what happened next.”
Kaeo trembled. He took another breath and swallowed hard against the lump in his throat. His emotions shifted inside, stirred and set aside by some invisible hand. His mud-caked fingers fell from his knees, and he folded them gently before him.
“Yesterday evening, before the sun set, I caught a glimpse of what I believed was smoke through the trees. My captain took us, all eight of us, down into the mires. It was so dark down there, and it was getting darker. I was the one who realized that it wasn’t smoke, but mist. I told my captain at once that we should fall back, that something wasn’t right. He laughed at me and told me I shouldn’t give in to children’s ghost stories.”
Kaeo searched the darkness for the man before him, his vision clouded with sadness and rage. A vague outline settled in the shadows. He could almost put a name to him. Almost.
“Go on, Hunter.”
A flash of red exploded in his mind, turning the forest around him crimson. In the crimson haze that had become his memory, he saw his captain exactly how he’d seen him last. Dark features twisted with hideous laughter. In the turn of a second, his captain’s mouth widened into a cry of terror.
The mists around them turned inky black. A Soul Seeker rose up in front of Kaeo’s captain in its tattered black robes. Silver claws lashed out in one swift motion that tore his chest and abdomen in different directions. As the remains of the captain’s body fell away, his eyes, terrified, burned into Kaeo’s memory.
“Dead...” Kaeo managed in a single forced breath. “All of them dead. First there was one Seeker, then two, then five. By that time, we were already outnumbered. Before we could even draw our weapons, three more of us were dead.”
“And did you draw your weapon?”
Kaeo stared ahead. “I didn’t have time. None of us could defend ourselves. Only one man managed to draw his sword, and he was struck down even quicker than my captain...”
“So what did you do?”
Kaeo shook his head, made frantic by the accusation in the voice of the figure before him. “Isn’t it obvious?” he cried. “We ran. We threw down our weapons, and our supplies, and we ran. I ran. Every time I heard a man scream out behind me, I ran harder and faster. I ran until everything around me blurred into nothing. And when I heard nothing, I ran even harder.”
Kaeo wept again, tears rolling down his face like a child lost and caught out in the impenetrable dark. No one would come to save him. The hunter sunk his chin into his chest. His great sobs slowed and then ceased altogether. The figure in the dark knelt down in front of Kaeo, but his tears hid the man’s face from him.
Kaeo breathed deeply. “There’s nothing more to tell. I ran as far and as fast as I could. I ran until my legs gave out, and that is where you have found me now.”
The figure didn’t move. Unease surged through Kaeo. He couldn’t be sure why, but he suddenly and clearly realized he didn’t know who he was talking to.
“Tell me, Hunter,” the voice in the darkness whispered, the scrape of tooth against bone. “How many of the Soul Seekers have returned? How many did you feel at your back as you ran like a frightened hare?”
Kaeo’s muddied hand slid to his thigh where he kept a knife strapped at all times. His fingertips found the handle effortlessly.
“Answer the question.”
Kaeo kept his gaze locked on the shadow before him. “I can’t be sure,” he said. “It felt like a swarm of them.”
In a swift, seamless motion, the figure rose up. A cold surge of satisfaction radiated from the man and into his own body. The hunter slid the knife free from its sheath. His muscles tensed. No friend stood before him.
Kaeo leapt to his feet, launching himself into the dark, knife drawn back and poised to fall in the middle of the shadowed figure’s head.
“Useless.” A hiss that echoed in Kaeo’s ears.
Wicked green light flared in the dark. The earth beneath Kaeo rose up, enfolding him. The cold and the wetness of the dirt grasped him tight, pulling him down, its crushing pressure suffocating. The mud reached his chin, then his teeth. The cold seeped into his mouth. His breath escaped. His eyes widened, nearly popping from his head.
The face in the dark smiled.
“The Soul Seekers have come, Hunter.”
Kaeo’s lungs struggled for one last breath, but it was the darkness, the blinding blackness that finally, and so effortlessly, killed him.
Racall and Darr traveled east, along what remained of the Lourcient River, towards Stern, over the next three days. Despite the weather turning colder and wetter, Darr grew more appreciative of his lessons from Racall. When they stopped at night, Darr always found something new to learn from the Archon.
After only a few days, moving through the Currents had become as easy as moving across an open field. He learned if he allowed himself a little patience, he could feel the emotions of people in the physical world through their Light. The sensation overwhelmed him still, but with Racall present, Darr found very little he couldn’t accomplish. He’d even managed to mingle with the spirits and listen to what they had to say without being overtaken by them.
While the experiences fascinated him, Darr found they affected him little outside in the physical world. There were great things he could do in the Currents, but what good were they if he couldn’t be in two places at once? He had to be in the Currents in order to summon these special skills, and in order to put his abilities to use, he had to be in Ictar.
“So what good are my abilities if I can’t use them in the physical world?” Darr asked Racall.
The Archon kept his gaze straight ahead, but a smile played at the edge of his mouth. “In the Currents, you must remember the futility of time.”
Though cryptic, Racall offered no further response to Darr’s question. Frustrated, Darr pondered the dilemma, searching for an real answer.
At noon on their third day out of the Valimere, they came within sight of Stern. The plains rolled upwards, making their rise into the foothills on which the city rested. Stern, an impregnable fortress in every sense of the word, had been a focal point during the Aeon Wars.
When the Ancients rose to power, they made use of their science to erect giant cities. Over time, their science unbalanced the Sephirs, and so they explored new avenues in which to grow. They discovered the ability to pass into the Currents from within their own minds. The Ancients used this newfound ability to walk the Currents and communicate with both the spirits and the Archons. Together, they balanced the Sephirs and restored order. Despite their vast knowledge of both science and magic, the Ancients maintained strict discipline in using their power.
~From A Current History of Ictar, as told by Nidic Waq
A glimmer of gray daylight splintered through the sitting room window, bringing Darr awake with a headache centered in his temples radiating down his face. He’d never experienced anything like it. He lifted his frame halfway up on the sofa, holding his hand to his forehead.
The spirits came to him, their presence sudden and intrusive.
Erec and Jinn must’ve returned during the night, he thought. He’d simply overheard a conversation with their father. Darr clamped his eyes shut. The voices came from within him, from the part of his mind connected to the Currents. The voices of the spirits flooded through him, their messages jumbled, but insistent. They wanted to be heard, whatever they were saying. Darr struggled to an upright position, fighting past the pain in his head. Perhaps this invasion by the spirits caused his headache, though he couldn’t be certain since nothing like it had happened before. The spirits only came when he thought about them, and they were never this persistent.
He took in deep breaths, sending air into his midsection in steady motions. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the silence in the house. The confusion of sound in the Currents and the throbbing of his head made them difficult to ignore, but not impossible. The air he breathed, and the comfort of his home, became his sanctuary. After a few minutes, Darr’s body and mind begin to relax, and with it, the voices disappeared. His headache became a dull tingle behind his skull, but with the spirits no longer present, he could function.
Darr’s eyes focused, and his physical body closed around him. The Currents still buzzed in his ears, awash with the incessant ramblings of the spirits, but Darr didn’t have attention to give them. A wave of sickness washed through him, disorienting him. He tried to stand and found his legs gave out.
“Do not strain yourself, young Summoner,” Racall soothed from right behind him. Gently, the Archon lifted him to his feet, holding him by the back of his shirt.
“What’s wrong with me?” Darr asked, his words slurring together.
“Your body and mind are adjusting to the shift between worlds. You need rest, but now is not an option. Come. I have your pack.”
Racall nudged him forward, and Darr’s legs worked mechanically. The air and darkness of the night closed around him as Racall prodded him out into the pass. With it, came a deadening cold, but Darr didn’t feel it from the elements. This cold came from inside him, radiating outward from the marrow of his bones. The night itself appeared normal and calm, but some threat lurked close by. Perhaps a predator cindercat was on the hunt, but that didn’t feel right. Whatever was out there didn’t feel natural.
Nothing could be seen with the eyes or heard with the ears.
Darr’s thoughts grew jumbled again and he fell to the ground. Racall had him on his feet in moments, nudging him onward, his voice a whisper of reassurance. “Not far now, young Reintol.”
The Summoner let himself be propelled forward. His body moved fine on its own, as long as he didn’t try to dwell on whatever went on around him. He and Racall had left the main pass now, and his legs worked harder as they started up an incline. Long grasses whipped at his arms and face, but these were minor annoyances. When at last they stopped, they were on a broad ledge above a canyon, but the shadow and starlight gave no real definition.