Shattered Soul (34 page)

Rani was certain she’d finally gone mad. Her gaze shifted to a child who ran along the hallway, laughing. Over top of the child lay a gruesome beast that snarled and snapped at everything around it.

“Your gift,” Fredrico said from behind her, “is to truly see who lives here. You see past their normal appearance to what truly resides inside these people. You see who and what they really are.”

“I don’t understand.” She glanced down the corridor, hearing the now familiar screams. “They aren’t really people?”

“Oh, they are.” Fredrico’s voice was bitter. “But you’re seeing below the surface now. You’re seeing their souls.”

They walked further down the corridor, Rani staring at the people, staring at their spirits. Every brutal face was more brutal Ss me. in the spirit, every smiling face and its hidden wickedness now open to show her the true soul underneath. Every face seemed worse, every cruelty exposed, every bit of lust and greed revealed in the spirit that overlaid them.

Every person she saw, both young and old, was a living nightmare. Every deadly sin she heard of was reflected in every face she saw. Some faces bore more of one sin than another, others bore multitudes. Everybody was twisted, fingers clawed, some dripping blood, others spilling entrails, and yet others with grotesquely enlarged genitalia. Every person bore their sin in twisted proudness. And every person there was unaware that she could see their sins, could see their true spirits.

To make it worse, beside every living person was a wraith. Their own personal nightmare. A dark, insubstantial rope seemed to tether them together and she somehow knew the wraiths were feeding off the pure evil of the person to which they’d attached themselves.

No guardian angels trod these halls. Nothing sweet, nothing nice, no one even faintly decent, no matter how old or young, lived in the fortress.

It had been terrible to see the atrocities committed here, but to see the malevolence that had been hidden inside people so openly displayed in spirit should have been shocking.

I should be a screaming mess. I should be grovelling on the floor or at least hiding my eyes. So why don’t I feel anything? Anything at all?

She was numb, totally numb. She moved down corridor after corridor, floor after floor, moving through the hall, seeing still more wraiths and people.

Fredrico strode along silently behind her. He said nothing, did nothing; he didn’t touch her or even attempt to explain anything more.

Rani moved into rooms she hadn’t even noticed before, doors seemingly appearing in what she could have earlier sworn were pure stone walls. Every room was so different. Some had quiet music and the people sitting inside drinking were like serpents, quiet and deadly, their tongues flickering out from lipless ghost lips, their slitted eyes like serpents’ eyes over top of their normal eyes.

Another room had loud thumping music, and everywhere was bedlam—screaming, laughter, and people committing sexual acts on each other, while others sat and ate chunks of raw meat, passing severed limbs amongst themselves. Their ghosts had jagged fangs and bright eyes, greed and lust pouring from their corporeal forms in clinging tendrils.

Another room was pure torture, the screams resounding as every vicious thing that could be thought of was carried out.

Amongst them all scurried twisted, gremlin-like things. Horned, crusty-skinned, they darted around to lap up spilt blood, food, drink, anything that fell to the floor.

Rani walked through the rooms, taking in the ghosts and wraiths, the reality of the people who dwelled within the walls of the fortress. And nothing touched her, the ghosts drew back, the wraiths watched through eyeless sockets and none approached her.

She moved outside and looked around. Space ships landed and took off, and Fredrico’s own crew stood near his ship. Monstrous demons walked the grounds, more substantial now to her eyes. The crew was hard and she could see the twisted lust and greed within them, the evil intent, and she could also see the deference they gave to Fredrico, the way their ghosts and wraiths fell back before him when he moved forward.

She couldn’t look at him, her heart heavy as she wondered what his face would reflect. Suldp> She refused to look at him and he said nothing when she turned from him.

“I’ve seen enough.” Her voice was dull even to her own ears. “I’m going to my room.”

Fredrico said nothing but she felt his gaze on her as she left. Silently she walked back through the fortress, seeing the people but not acknowledging them. Straight-backed she walked, her thoughts shuttered, her steps deliberate.

Opening her door, she stepped into her room and shut it behind her, flicking the lock while inwardly knowing that nothing could stop anything from getting in if it wanted to, not in this cursed place.

The peace and privacy of her room slammed into her. Nothing dwelt in the corners, nothing hid under the bed, and nothing lurked high in the ceiling. It was just her room.

Or was it?
Lifting her hands, she looked at them. Nothing marred her skin, all blood and traces of the fight were gone. Reaching up, she touched her face. Her skin was smooth, no jagged skin or soreness. Looking at her upper arm, she found the blistering burns gone.

Had The Overlord done it? Had he somehow healed every injury she’d suffered?

She took a shuddering breath. Her skin startled to crawl and she felt suddenly dirty, filthy, as though the vileness of those in the fortress had somehow touched her after all.  As though the stench of the underworld clung to her, and the blood of Ethmor was still on her.

She started to shake. Moving fast, she entered the bathroom, kicking off her boots and tearing off her clothes, throwing them all in the bin in the wall, wanting nothing to do with those clothes again.

The water was hot, almost unbearable, but she stepped under it and scrubbed her skin, scrubbing and scrubbing, trying to wash the filth away, the filth that wasn’t on her skin but seemed inside it. She lathered her hair and washed it three times. For a full thirty minutes she stood under the water and washed until finally she felt as though she’d done all she could before stepping out and drying herself.

Wrapping the towel around herself, she reached for the comb and her heart started to thud. Her heart beat became almost painful and she felt her control start to splinter as the comb slipped through her hair and she noted that there was not one knot or tangle that didn’t magically smooth away.

Hands shaking now, she put down the comb. Bracing her hands on the wash basin, she took several deep breaths, trying to steel herself to look up into the mirror.

To see her true self.

Taking deep breaths, she bit her lip, telling herself she could do it,
one look, how bad can it be? Who am I? What have I become?

The numbness started to slip away, her heart thundering, hands shaking and her breaths coming in small pants. Unable to face herself, she wheeled away from the mirror and ran from the bathroom, coming to a stop in the middle of the room, her bare feet sinking into the luxurious carpet.

There was nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide. No sister from which to seek comfort and shared laughter.

She was alone.

So very alone.

Alone in a nightmare world.

A little tendril of smoke started to unfurl from her fingertip and she slumped to her knees with a moan. Rocking backward and forward, she stared at her hand, seeing another smoke tendril unfurl from another finger, and yet a third.

“Who am I?” she whispered, and then the dam broke, the numbness swept away, and in a panic she screamed,
“Who am I?”

The walls trembled and her hair lifted, stirring in a hot breeze. Panic poured through her, horror on horror swamping her senses, every mental shield shattering as she took in the enormity of everything that had happened.

The enormity of who she was, someone she didn’t recognize, didn’t know, and was scared of, someone she didn’t want to be.

“No!” Rising up on her knees, she held her hands up, seeing the orange flames dancing on the tips. “No! I’m not a Reeka!
I’m not a Reeka!
”

A crack rent the air as she threw her head back and screamed. Her scream echoed in the ceiling, shook the walls, and in the distance she heard the roars of the demons, enjoying of her anguish, and she wanted it to all end.

To end it all.

Kill everyone and everything that lived in this cursed place.

She felt the surge of power and tried to fight it, some distant part of her mind fighting for survival and control, but once unleashed she couldn’t control the dam. Horror, fury, fear, sadness, it washed through her and fed the fire of power.

Suddenly he was there, a warm presence behind her, bending over her, his hands catching her own and forcing them down to her sides. His cheek was against hers as he whispered words that slid through her senses, breaking down her fury, spiking through the rage and trickling through her sadness.

Fredrico’s power slipped into her, his shields crashing through her mind, separating her thoughts and emotions from the raw power that fed on them. Violet ran between them, from his mind to hers, soothing her, breaking down her rage, and with a sob she fell back into his arms.

On his knees behind her, he caught her to him as she slumped back against his chest. His hands still engulfed hers and he drew them to her chest, cradling her in his arms.

“Sssh, Rani.” His words were warm against her cheek, comforting, and she started to cry softly.

Curled around her back, his jaw against the side of her head, he whispered soothingly into her ear, his voice a deep rumble against her back. Releasing her hands, he wrapped his arms around her and simply cradled her, allowing her to cry.

She thought she’d never stop, every torn emotion coming to the fore. She cried as time slipped past and through it all he waited, murmuring quietly. It seemed forever before slowly her sobs quieted to the odd hiccup.

“This is my fault,” Fredrico pressed a kiss to her temple. “I shouldn’t have left you alone. I’m so sorry.”

“No,” she choked out. “I’m the one who is sorry. I caused Veknor’s transformation. Oh, God, Fredrico! Who am I? I was just a simple warrior, and now I don’t even know who I am!”

“Don’t.” He stroked her arms soothingly. “You’re Rani. You always will be.”

“I’m not a Reeka anymore.” Holding up her hands, she looked at her fingers. No smoke curled from them but she knew what dwelt within her. “I’m not a Reeka warrior. I don’t know what the hell I am anymore.”

“You’re Rani,” he repeated.

“I don’t want to be here. I want to go home.” She took a shuddering breath before repeating on a sob, “I want to S e="+0">“ go home.”

His arms tightened around her.

Another tear slid down her cheek. “But I can never go home. Never.”

“No, you can’t go home.” The regret in his voice was genuine. The silence between them lengthened until he broke it with a gentle squeeze. “But I’ll always be here for you, Rani. I’ll not leave you again. Whenever and wherever you need me, no matter what, I will be there for you. I promise you this.”

His words comforted her, sliding through her sense with the complete power of truth. Knowing someone else cared, no matter how dubiously, calmness descended slowly but surely.

Without thinking she turned her head to look up at him, only at the last second remembering that she could now see what someone really looked like. Before her gaze could see him, she shut her eyes fast.

“Rani?”

“I...”

“Tell me what’s wrong.”

I’m scared of what I’ll see. She swallowed.

As usual, he seemed to read her very thoughts. “Open your eyes, Rani.”

“I don’t - I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You can’t go around with your eyes shut forever.” Slight humour sounded in his words. “Sooner or later you’re going to need to look at me.”

He was right, and so she took a deep breath and opened her eyes, steeling herself for what she’d see.

Ruthless blue eyes looked down at her from the lean, handsome face she knew so well, but it was the ghost face overlaying his that she studied. The blue eyes were the same, only more depthless, as though deeper inside his soul dwelt something more. Little lines of violet softened the ruthlessness but couldn’t hide the merciless light that showed so clearly to her gaze. His lips were harder, more compressed, as though contemplating the worries of the world and, while not liking what he saw, he would nevertheless carry out any orders given to him by The Overlord. There was also an air of quiet contemplativeness to his ghost face, an intelligence that shone through the hardness, but there was no mistaking the harshness of his life, for it was there in the handsome features. He was a mixture of harshness and something more, a little softness, a contemplativeness that was at odds with the hardness, but he was a definite mixture of both. Which side would win in a fight of good and evil was unknown. Darkness dwelt within Fredrico, and now so did the calming violet. Almost discernable to the eye but there, was, nevertheless a dark haze behind his face, a dark shape that tossed its horns once before becoming still once again.

“You can’t live in both worlds and be unaffected,” Fredrico said softly, and with his words his soul vanished, leaving his normal face behind.

Startled, she tried unsuccessfully to bring his ghost face back into focus.

He smiled slightly. “You forget, warrior, that I have powers, too.”

“So you’re only letting me see what I want to see?”

“No. I’m letting you see what you need to.”

Her breath hitched. “So you see what I see? The ghost faces?”

“I see what you see, the true souls of the people who come our way.”

Her pulse beat heavily in her throat. “So what do you see when you look at me?”

His reply was simple. “I see your soul.”

“And what does it look like?”

His gaze held hers unblinkingly. “Have you looked in a mirror yet, Rani?”

“No.”

“Then it’s time.” Releasing her, he pushed to his feet, drawing her up with him and slipping his hand around hers, he pulled her behind him towards the bathroom.