Chaos (31 page)

David smiled and withdrew, sitting close to Sasha and saying something Fritz did not quite catch.

"So a part of you is kept separate? And reaches you as though a separate person?"

Sasha sucked in a breath. "I can't believe it never occurred to me before. That sounds like a Soul Breaking."

The words sent a shudder of terror through Fritz, but he could not say why. "What is a Soul Breaking?"

"It's what happened to Holy Zhar Ptitsa," Sasha said quietly. "His children were on the verge of destroying him permanently, but the Priest of Ashes managed to save him by breaking his soul into a thousand pieces. Then, over the course of nine centuries, one by one he reunited the broken pieces in the Sacred Fires until the soul was restored and Zhar Ptitsa reborn. It's a brutal process; no mortal could ever handle it as well as a god. I suspect that is what Teufel did to you. Your soul was broken into two pieces. Obviously one half is reborn over and over again as the High Seer. The other half, Drache, was …"

"Sealed away somewhere," Fritz whispered, and the flood of anguish from Drache told him it was true. "Oh, light. Drache has been alive this entire time, trapped … forced to wait for me to be reborn over and over …"
Drache. Drache. How can you bear it? And you could never tell me.

I still can't tell you, not all of it. But you've never figured so much out before. Oh, Fritz, my other half. I miss you.

Fritz was torn between sobbing and laughing hysterically.
I really am in love with myself, aren't I?

Who could be better for you than your other half?
Drache asked sadly.

Hot tears fell down Fritz's cheeks as he buried his face in his hands. "Drache."

Fritz.

A hand fell on his shoulder, and Fritz felt a warm, calming sensation pour through him. He looked up and nearly was undone by the look of kindness, of understanding, on Sasha's face. "I do not know what it's like to be missing a piece of my soul, but I know what it's like to be so close and so far from someone you desperately love. I am sorry. I promise I will do all I can to see you and Drache are properly united."

Fritz gave a shaky laugh and wiped his face with his snow-damped sleeve. "I am grateful that no one thinks I am crazy. Thank you. I am sorry for your own pain."

Sasha sat down again and looped an arm across David's shoulders. "There is no reason to be sorry for me, not when I have been fortunate enough in all of this to find David."

David smiled, shy but the happiest Fritz had ever seen anyone be. He hoped there might come a day when he could look at Drache that way, sit that close and be able to touch him so.

Someday, other half. I refuse to believe that day will never come. I have waited too long for it.

One way or another, we'll be together,
Fritz vowed.
Whatever it takes.

Drache's agreement poured through him like a soft rumble, or perhaps a sort of rough purr. Feeling somewhat better, Fritz finished his tea, grateful that it soothed the worst of his aches. "What is this tea?" he asked. "I've never had anything like it."

"Maja always called it her cure-all tea. We drink it fairly often in Black Hill, especially in winter. No matter your ill, this tea will cure it."

"I'm surprised it's not more common everywhere," Fritz said. "It should be."

"We have to pick some of the components up in the mountains, and there's not much of it that grows within the barrier. Once in a while, we risk going outside the barrier, but it's just too dangerous to do often."

Fritz nodded and reluctantly handed his cup back to be packed away. "I guess we should resume the journey, then. I am not looking forward to sleeping accommodations." He stood up, groaning as he stretched, working out stiff muscles while the fire was put out and the clearing tidied up. When they all were ready, he followed the others out of the trees and back out into the freezing weather.

It took them nine miserable days to reach the Great Wall and one day more to reach a gate.

When they did finally reach it, he was surprised at the way that Sasha and David hung back, the anguish that filled their faces. David huddled close to Sasha, burying his face against Sasha's chest.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Sasha's mouth set in a grim line, but before he could reply David explained, "This is where Achim …" David started to say, then stopped.

"The first Sentinel I killed was a beast," Sasha said, hugging David, stroking his hair soothingly. "But when we reached this gate, we met Achim. It took me a little while to realize he was a Great Sentinel. Like Meine, he was easy to mistake as completely human—except for his power, his knowledge, and the very glaring fact that he lived in the Great Wall. I did not know there was any way through the Great Wall except by killing the Great Sentinels. Achim said that killing him would be a mercy."

"I see," Fritz said softly.

"You did the right thing," Meine said. "Do not linger upon it, please. Achim would not want you to be upset. We have longed for death for a very long time."

Fritz rested a hand on Mein's shoulder and then approached the gate. He rested his hand against it, and let his eyes fall shut. He could feel the thrum of the magic—the curse.
A binding of souls combined with the seal of lifeblood—a soul lock. Twelve souls bound eternally to the wall and a thirteenth bound to circle it. A compass of blood and a broken guide.

Yes,
 Drache rumbled in agreement.
Teufel was always the most talented sorcerer in the end. Such things always came so naturally to him.

I wish he had put it toward kinder magics,
Fritz replied. Withdrawing, he turned to face the others, gaze lingering on Meine. "It does seem I have permission to open a gate. The spell, for whatever reason, allows for that, but I also think  that with Drache's help I can break the curse entirely. I'm not sure Teufel realizes I can do that. But if I break the curse, it will kill all of you.

"Do it," Meine said fiercely. "We're
tired,
Holiness. Achim and I were the only ones who had not succumbed to our beastly natures. Do you know what it was like to watch them lose their minds and turn into monsters, succumbing one by one? Please, show us the mercy so long denied us."

Fritz swallowed and nodded. "So be it." He stepped in close, embraced Meine tightly. Tears stung his eyes as he whispered,
"Blood of thirteen cast upon the wall, to bind, to seal, to hide. Power of night, power of day, cast shadow and light upon the stones and wash the blood away. Souls too long kept awake, I give you rest, in the name of long lost Licht."

Meine gave a soft cry, murmured words of gratitude, and then collapsed heavily against Fritz. Eyes blurring with tears, Fritz knelt and laid him down upon the broken road, drawing his cloak tightly around him and resting a hand against his cheek.

Be at peace,
Drache said softly, sadly.
Be happy in your next life, Meine.

Fritz looked up at the sound of footsteps, surprised at the relief that coursed through him when he saw Sasha. Standing over Meine's body, Sasha murmured,
"In fire born, in fire end, to be born again."
Meine's body burst into golden flames, and Fritz knew he should move away, but he simply couldn't. He remained kneeling at Meine's side until the flames died away and nothing remained of Meine except ashes and memory.

"Thank you," he said quietly when it was over and accepted the hand that Sasha held out to him.

Sasha nodded, then indicated the gate. "Can we go through?"

Fritz turned to face it and spread his arms out.
"The Priest of Night and Day bids you open."

The gate seemed to shudder and the sound of breaking metal filled the air. The doors parted ever so slightly. A scent like roses wafted out, filling the air for a moment before the winter wind snatched it away. "They're unlocked. We should be able to go through whenever we want—anyone can, now. The curse is gone, the Great Wall is just an ordinary wall."

"It's late," David said. "We should rest tonight and head out in the morning?"

Sasha smiled at him and nodded. "That does sound like the best plan. I did not think we would return to this spot so soon." He shared a sad smile with David, took his hand and squeezed it lightly, then led the way inside. Sasha and David set to work starting a fire and preparing food. Fritz tried to help them, but quickly gave up, feeling tired and dizzy and unbelievably sore. Leaving them to it, he retreated to sit on the bed so he was out of the way.

He did not remember falling asleep, but when he woke, he had been settled more comfortably in the bed and the room was dark. The fire had been banked, but still cast warm orange light on the sleeping figures bedded down near the bookcase against one wall.

Fritz yawned and started to burrow back into the blankets, more than happy to stay right there as long as possible, when he heard a noise. He paused, listening closely, then heard it again. Something was outside. He hoped it was just the wind, but in his experience it was
never
just the wind.

Reluctantly he threw back his blankets and climbed out of bed, making a face at the cold as he walked to the door.  Pulling it open, he looked out into the night, where moonlight gleamed on fields of endless snow.

Scuffling, someone swearing. Fritz stepped outside, something about the voice nagging at him. He turned toward the sound, which seemed to be coming from the gate, and saw a boy standing in front of it. "You there!" he said sharply.

The boy turned toward him, and the anger on his face drew Fritz up short for a moment. Gathering himself, he said, "Get over here now, boy!"

Slinking over to him, the boy gazed up at him defiantly, still bristling with anger. Fritz grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked him inside, then closed the door. "What in the name of the Light are you doing here, you little fool?" He gave the boy a good, hard shake, batting his hands away when the boy tried to hit him. Fritz shook him again, then gave one of his cheeks a solid smack. It was more sound than pain, a good way to calm down new Seers overwhelmed by their first hard vision, and it served just as well to make the boy go still. Anger still burned in his eyes, but he stopped struggling.

Fritz realized abruptly that he looked familiar, but he could not say why. Perhaps he'd seen the boy running around Unheil … that was it. "You are—"

"Killian!" David said from behind Fritz and shoved past him. He gripped Killian's arms and shook him far harder than Fritz had. "What are you doing here, Killian? How did you get here? Can't you stop being trouble for one minute!"

Snarling, Killian broke free—then threw himself at David, swinging wildly, catching him on the jaw and stomach. David went tumbling with a cry of surprise and pain, tripped, and crashed to the floor. Killian fell on him and resumed his careless, but vehement attempts to pummel.

Fritz moved toward them, determined to beat the little brat until he gained some sense, when the unmistakable
crack
of a whip came down. Killian screamed in pain and clutched at his cheek, scrambling away from David and turning toward the source of the whip.

"That is enough," Sasha said, and even Fritz wanted suddenly to bow in apology and not rise until Sasha gave him leave to do so. There was something about Sasha that was commanding—even imperious. Not for the first time, Fritz had the impression that Sasha was a man accustomed to being obeyed. Coiling his whip, Sasha strode across the room and yanked Killian close. "You are a spoiled little brat, and if you do not cease to act like a child then I will treat you like one."

Killian just sneered. "What, lash me like the other sorcerers? They're all the same—eager to beat anyone who steps out of line."

Giving him a shake, Sasha said, "We do not lash anyone as a means of discipline in Pozhar. That little sting on your cheek is trifling and you know it. Do not try to manipulate David into taking your side by playing up lashings. Do not forget the scars on his back are because of you."

"Seen his back a lot, have you?" Killian said with a sneer.

Sasha's mouth tightened. "Speak of David in such fashion again and I will slap you. He is your friend—act like it."

Killian glared mutinously, but kept his mouth shut. Sasha roughly let him go, then strode over to David. "Are you all right?" he asked, gingerly touching David's bruised face.

"F-fine," David said shakily.

Sighing, Fritz grabbed Killian by the arm and dragged him over to the fireplace. "Sit," he said sharply. "One word out of you and I'll put you back outside until the weather chills that temper. Do you understand me?"

"Yes," Killian said. Fritz stared coolly at him, until Killian begrudgingly corrected, "Yes, Holiness."

Stifling a sigh, Fritz went to make tea.
What is going to happen next?

Do you really want to know the answer?

If I said no, would it matter?

At least it will all be over soon.

One way or another,
Fritz agreed grimly.

David huddled close to Sasha, still numb and reeling from the way Killian had attacked him—the anger. It had felt so much more like hate. Why did Killian hate him so much?

"It's not your fault," Sasha said quietly.

"But—if I had just—" He should have paid closer attention, said something sooner.

Sasha hugged him close, ever mindful of his battered face. "You are not responsible for his emotions or his behavior. Even if you did something wrong, you did not deserve this. Now come here, let me heal you this time."

David nodded, still feeling sort of numb even though his face hurt and he could feel bruises on his chest and arms. He'd tried to fight back, or at least to defend himself, but the assault had left him too shocked to react. Killian had attacked him—beaten him. And the awful things he'd said …

Killian hated him. Why? What had he done so wrong?