Darkness of the Soul (9 page)

Drakanis could feel his skin trying to crawl off his body, provoking a fit of shuddering. He closed his eyes, trying to make it go away. He kept telling himself that it was just nerves, but he didn’t really believe that.

Right,
nerves.
You
know
what
it
really
is?
They
call
that
terror,
buddy.
Welcome
back
to
the
world
of
emotions.
Enjoy
the
ride.

Chapter
7
 

2:00 am, October 12, 1986

The
walls
thrum
with
the
power
put
out
by
the
thing
in
the
middle
of
the
room,
making
the
crude
frames
dance
and
making
it
hard
for
the
man
to
keep
upright
as
he
steps
in.
Every
few
seconds,
the
thrumming
pauses
and
then
booms
out
again,
sending
sonic
shockwaves
through
the
chamber
and
making
the
intruder’s
brain
jiggle
in
his
skull
as
it
tries
to
find
a
way
to
leak
out
his
ears.
The
time
between
each
of
these
beats
has
been
shortening
steadily
since
the
intruder
came
into
the
building,
and
now
they’re
only
a
minute
or
two
apart,
at
best.
He’s
waiting
for
them
to
pick
up
to
a
heartbeat
rhythm,
hopefully
before
the
force
of
it
crushes
his
mind.

The
intruder
has
been
waiting
for
several
hours
now
and
may
wait
several
more.
His
hands
drip
gore
from
their
last
act
before
entering
this
chamber.
Murdering
the
keeper
had
not
proven
nearly
as
difficult
as
he
had
thought
it
might.
He
considered
this
pleasing,
a
sure
sign
that
he
was
to
be
the
next.
The
gore
does
not
bother
him,
for
he
has
spilled
blood
before
and
will
surely
spill
it
again
in
his
time
of
service.
All
that
matters
is
the
waiting
and
the
opening
of
the
way.

Though
it
will
be
many
years
before
he
knows
the
date
and
years
after
that
before
the
day
comes,
here
and
now
is
the
first
time
that
he
knows
the
way
will
be
opened
in
his
lifetime.
It
is
here
that
the
man
called
Karim
Alvat
is
laid
to
rest—though
he
may
use
that
name,
when
it
suits
him—and
it
is
here
that
Karesh
ibn
Karesh
is
born,
his
body
bloodied
with
the
trauma
of
his
coming,
and
his
soul
nearly
torn
asunder
by
the
force
that
has
called
him.

Though
the
Karesh
of
the
now,
the
one
who
dreams
this
night
again
and
again,
does
not
know
it
any
more
than
the
Karim/Karesh
who
stands
in
the
chamber
on
the
former
day,
he
has
soiled
himself,
excitement
and
terror
in
equal
measure
loosening
his
bowels
and
thrusting
him
to
orgasm
simultaneously.
He
neither
notices
nor
minds
the
smells
or
the
shudders
that
overtake
him
as
the
heartbeat
sounds
again,
forcing
more
of
the
human
filth
from
his
body.

And I shall come among them, and be as a God to them,
the
dream-Karesh
thinks,
and
the
Karesh
who
dreams
it
smiles
in
his
sleep.
A
pigeon,
roosting
on
the
fire
escape,
sees
that
smile
and
falls
dead
from
its
perch;
cats
in
heat
yowl
with
finality
before
tearing
each
other
apart.
Neither
does
Karesh
notice.

The
light
in
the
chamber—coming
from
the
object
at
its
center—begins
to
fade,
and
even
though
it
is
no
longer
light,
Karesh
finds
he
may
see
in
it
regardless.
This
was
the
first
blessing
the
talu`shar
brought
to
him,
that
he
may
see
even
when
all
others
would
be
blinded.
In
the
new
darkness,
Karesh
felt
his
other
senses
likewise
increasing,
until
he
could
smell
the
blood
that
had
been
used
to
forge
the
talu`shar
,
until
he
could
hear
the
crickets
outside,
until
he
could
feel
and
hear
and
smell
his
own
blood
rushing
through
his
veins.
At
no
moment,
before
or
since,
has
he
been
as
alive,
as
commanding
of
his
body
and
all
the
information
it
processes,
and
he
longs
each
night
for
this
clarity,
knowing
it
will
only
come
again
when
he
has
completed
his
task.

“Come
to
me,
Warden,
and
forge
your
bargain.”

The
voice
is
not
one
he
hears
with
his
ears,
though
they
strain
to
do
so.
It
is
a
voice
for
taste
and
sight,
one
beyond
any
hearing
but
likewise
beyond
any
disobedience.
He
could
see
the
pulses
coming
from
the
talu`shar
,
and
taste
the
command
in
the
air,
while
his
mind
processed
it
into
coherent
order.
Such
was
the
way
of
the
magic,
bypassing
the
organs
most
associated
with
deceiving
their
owner
and
penetrating
into
the
heart
and
soul.