Ultrina opened her eyes to a far away and perhaps not even mortal plane sound. Something wailed in anger. Ultrina closed her eyes again, bringing her bound hands to her face. What was wailing, she didn’t know, but she had an inkling. It most likely had something to do with that hurt child. Of course it did. Careful to turn over on her side with her back to the center of the wagon, Ultrina considered what she heard. Like her eyes seeing, her ears heard things from beyond. Things no mortal was ever supposed to hear at times.
Things that, had they been unusual to her, might have been frightening.
The feeling she should help passed through her and out into the ether. Ultrina could have helped them, but they didn’t want her help. As Mongen was fond of saying, she was a maker of monsters. Her abilities were not meant to save, that much was true. However, they were also not necessarily meant to destroy.
They could do both, wielded properly.
Mongen moved around in the wagon, his motions impatient. Ultrina did her best to ignore his pacing. If he wanted to know where Tal was and how things were going, he would have to go to her. There would be no other way. And he would have to take Ultrina so as not to let her out of his sight.
“Get up,” Mongen snapped. “We’re going.”
Ultrina took her time rising from her resting place. Keeping her hands bound might well give him some satisfaction; however, it did make it hard to move quickly.
“Going where?”
“To find the Sister.”
“She’s not lost,” Ultrina said. “She’s in the wagon with the child, where you sent her.”
“Then she should be back by now.”
“Considering what she’s up against, it will be a miracle if she comes back at all.”
“What is it you know?”
Ultrina ducked her head, letting her hair cover her eyes. “I know that the trouble is something far greater than one without knowledge can handle.”
“Don’t be cryptic.”
“I’m not completely sure yet, I have to get closer and examine what’s happening.”
“So you don’t know.”
“I said I’m not sure yet.”
“But you could be sure?”
“Soon and easily.”
Mongen let out a massive sigh before he opened the door to the wagon and ducked out into the waning daylight. Night came early in the mountains. Ultrina followed him, navigating her bound state with relative ease. Walking in the presence of the giant, she couldn’t help feeling the eyes on her. Of course, there were those who looked at the giant, but most looked at her and with the usual distrust one serves up to another who is apparently a criminal.
They found Narsan walking with her male consort. He had his arm around her shoulder and was talking to Narsan in her ear.
“Please led us to the wagon where Tal is,” Mongen said. Ultrina did not hide in his shadow, but she kept her bound hands down as though that would make it less noticeable.
“Do you also ask only to be polite?” Narsan asked Mongen. The woman’s gaze seemed to dare his response, in spite of his station being above hers.
“Yes,” Mongen said. “I fear for our companion.”
“You travel with one in chains,” said Narsan’s consort. He had not missed Ultrina’s predicament. “Is the one who is assisting us, her or you?” Narsan gestured for her consort to be quiet and the man ducked his head.
“Forgive him,” Narsan said. “He is distraught as am I. I will take you to the wagon where I left her.”
Minutes later, they stood at the edge of the wagon, and Ultrina heard it clear as day, Tal’s cry for help.
“We have to go in,” Ultrina said. Mongen did not attempt to stop her as she took the stairs to the wagon door. The door’s wood felt warm against her palm, as though it were heated from the inside. Then she tried to open it. The door resisted her push and her pull without not so much as a budge.
Tal continued to scream.
Mongen surged up the stairs and Ultrina barely had time enough to step out of the way before he threw his entire body against the door. The wood gave, cracking down the center. He pried his thick, large fingers into the crack and widened it. Tal’s face on the other side of the door was one of terror.
“Help me,” she cried, tears having streaked down her face. Mongen’s bulk hid everything from view for long enough Ultrina put a hand on him as if to awaken him from slumber.
“What is going on inside?” Ultrina asked.
“The child…” began Mongen and he did not finish. Instead he thrust his hands through the widened crack in the door and took hold of Tal, squeezing and shimmeying her through the space. Then Tal was on the stairs of the wagon, her breath coming in harsh gasps.
“Could you hear me?” Tal asked when she began to catch her breath.
“We heard you once you were close,” Mongen said. Then he turned to Ultrina. “Do you have a better idea of what it is now?”
“I think I do and it’s old magic. The child is only a herald of something bigger.” Ultrina tried to spread her hands, forgetting for a moment they were bound together. “This is something that must be battled at the source.”
“Did one of yours make it?”
“Of that I cannot be certain until I get much closer to where it came from.”
Tal caught her breath and stared up at the two of them.
“It told me to get out but then it wouldn’t let me leave.”
“The child was probably the one telling you to run; the creature would gladly have destroyed you.”
“It sounded so strange,” Tal said. “Something incomprehensible is going on.”
Narsan’s female consort joined them then, bringing with her bandages and boiled water to tend to Tal’s wounds, which were several but shallow. Narsan looked at the broken door of the wagon and asked,
“Are we safe?”
“I don’t know,” Mongen replied immediately putting up one hand to stall Ultrina from speaking. “But I would suggest you keep everyone away from here for now.” He pitched his voice out into the dark where there were those who had begun to gather around. There was no hiding anything in a camp, even a sizable one. Therefore, there would be those who wished to help or just wished to stare. They didn’t need either of those in this situation. Ultrina considered further the happenings she knew of.
“I need to speak to the children,” Ultrina said. “I need to know where this child was found.”
Narsan grimaced and then went to her woman and spoke in her ear. The grimace moved from one face to another as she spoke, but the woman finally nodded and then moved off into the camp. She would return a few minutes later leading several children. Five children comprised the group, each of them with their differences, yet it was obvious some shared the same triumvirate.
“You will not hurt them?”
“No, good mistress,” Ultrina said. “I only wish to know where they found their friend.”
“Narsakin went off exploring alone,” one of them immediately piped up, a blondish boy with pale brown skin of many days in and out of the sun. The others in the group agreed. “Then we couldn’t find her. We all went in, but she was first.”
The others were nodding in agreement, but Ultrina wondered at the account being so clean.
“Did any of you see her touch something or find something she shouldn’t have?” Ultrina’s question brought the boy to silence. If he had seen something, then he would have to tell her. If he hadn’t, there was still no way to tell what was going on without seeking it out.
A girl, her eyes down and nearly hiding behind the consort’s skirts, said,
“He pushed her down the hole.” She was much younger than the others, hands twisted in the fabric of the skirt hiding her.
“Lola,” the boy hissed. The girl recoiled and fell silent. The consort’s reaction was swift, she popped the boy in his right ear. The boy yelped and looked offended at having been hit, but defiant just the same.
“What really happened?” Narsan demanded, arms crossed over her chest. The boy looked away and scuffed the edge of one sandaled foot on the ground. He refused to look at the caravan leader and instead focused on the silent Mongen. “Answer me,” Narsan said and then grabbed the boy by the edge of his shirt. “Dymon,” she said as she shook him. “What happened to my daughter?”
Inside the wagon, an inarticulate scream of rage rose.
Ultrina half-turned to look back. The door appeared to be holding against the monster’s attempts to escape. Good. How long that would continue to be so anyone could guess, but for the moment, it stayed in the wagon and they gathered outside.
More people had gathered, which in Ultrina’s mind was not a good thing. The more people nearby when that thing got out, the more damage it might well do.
“I pushed her down, but I didn’t expect her to fall into the well.”
“What?” Ultrina stopped her ruminating. “A well?”
“Yes, we were playing in the cave, running around exploring, but some of us got separated. Narsakin and me were in a dark place where we could barely see, but there was this light coming from the floor. I pushed her toward it because she was cowering but I swear I didn’t expect her to fall into a hole.” Dymon cowered in the grip of Narsan, but she did not strike him again.
“Could you see any markings around the hole she fell into?” Ultrina questioned.
“I swear I didn’t look, I just ran to get the others so we could get her out.”
“So it’s never deep?”
“No, mistress.”
The way his voice quivered as he used the honorific made Ultrina’s skin near on crawl, but she didn’t let it affect her in that moment. There would be time enough for reflection later on.
“Who can lead us back to this strange well? Can you?”
“I don’t want the children going back anywhere near it,” Narsan said.
“I understand,” Mongen interjected. “But we have to deal with whatever this is.”
“Your companion seems to know a great deal about what is going on,” Narsan said. “What can she do to help us?”
“I don’t know what yet I can do to help you, but I need to see this well the boy says he pushed her into. Otherwise, that thing in there will eventually be out here with us and that’s more than any of us can handle not knowing what it is.”
The Oloa stepped forward and gestured toward the west. “It is that way, follow me.” Ultrina didn’t care for the way Tal’s face changed when presented with their helper, but it didn’t matter then. They had an adult willing to led them in the direction they needed to go.
He made good time for an old man, his staff jangling over his head. He moved with the ease of one long used to far travel on foot. There were some who said Oloa did not ride horses because it interrupted their connection to the land, but Ultrina didn’t know how true that was.
“Old Father,” Ultrina called to him. “Were you there when they brought the daughter back?”
“I was summoned immediately because she barely breathed. Then we thought she was still alive, so I set about trying to strengthen her so she might open her eyes and become one with us again.” He stroked his lengthy beard and shook his head. “I fear I may have simply made her a better host for this darkness which has come.”
“If you did, you have no reason to fault yourself. You could only do what you thought was best.”
“Tell me,” he said. “Why do you travel in bindings?”
“That is a story for another day long from now,” Ultrina said. “For now, we have a daughter to save.”
They walked on together in companionable silence. Mongen and Tal were not far behind, but Ultrina couldn’t make out their conversation. As people of the Church, she could only guess what they thought of their current company. The Oloa were witch doctors and charlatans according to the holy scripture. No more able to heal than a necromancer, which was also an outlawed profession.
Ever since its rise years previous, the Church had systematically rooted out the religions of the people, replacing it with their doctrines of right and wrong, heaven and hell. Ultrina did not care for it, but then again, she was one of the outlawed. Those who forced to live outside the law rarely cared much for it.
The Oloa reached the mouth of the cave and struck a flint to light a torch left behind, haphazardly dropped in their haste to return the daughter to their caravan, no doubt. He led the way into the dark beyond the mouth with Ultrina not far behind. Mongen took up a spot at the back as if he were expecting something to try to seal them in or come at the group from behind. Perhaps it was for the best. If it were anything mortal, he could dispatch it with some quickness.
“Old Father,” Ultrina sniffed the air. “Are you sure of where you’re going on?”
“I think I remember,” he said. “But I could be wrong, I will admit.”
“We need to go this way,” Ultrina said cocking her head to one side. “There is a fetid breath to the air which could indicate what we’re looking for.”
“Our power leaves no such residue behind,” Tal said.
Ultrina turned a deaf ear to Tal’s words.
When they reached the chamber of the well, Ultrina was right, the air smelled wrong. Off every so slightly as if something had been allowed a day too long in the open air. The well, as Dymon described, wasn’t deep but it was too deep for a child to help themselves out or to reach anyone from the top.
“A ghost pit,” Ultrina said with a bit of amusement. “An old trap set by Necromantic masters to guard their territory.”
The Oloa looked at her with hard eyes.
“How do you know this?” he asked.
“I have studied some of the old magic,” Ultrina said staring into his eyes. “And this could be deadly.”
“How does it work?”
“It’s a pit full of vengeful ghosts. They possess whoever comes into contact with the water of the well, which is why they are hidden in the floor of dark places. A fool falls in, the ghost possesses them, they are taken back to their camp, and when the spirit awakens it has one objective which is to destroy everyone in their vicinity and then themselves returning the ghost to the pit.”
Tal shivered as though a draft had just run across her arms.
“So what do we do?” Mongen stooped, his head near brushing the ceiling of the chamber. “How do we save the child?”
“I should be able to summon the ghost back to the well,” Ultrina knelt beside the hole and ran her fingers along the edge, searching there for what she knew had to be there, the recall spell.
The stone had been worn smooth by time and what appeared to be a chisel.
Ultrina cursed. “Someone’s destroyed it.”
“Why?” Tal asked.
“I don’t know. Perhaps so it cannot be undone, or because they didn’t understand what they were doing to it.”
“What were they doing to it?” Mongen asked
“Making it extremely dangerous. This means once a ghost is out, there is nothing to recall it to the well. Allowing it to rampage until someone can bring it down.”
“How does one bring down a ghost?” The way Tal asked the question it seemed she already had an idea.
“By destroying the host. It forces the ghost back into the spirit realm, sets it free as it were, but it kills whomever it was inhabiting.” Even as she spoke, Ultrina couldn’t help wondering how anyone would be willing to kill a child even if it meant releasing a ghost from bondage and saved everyone else. It would be an awfully hard thing, even if the child weren’t the prized first born of the caravan leader. Ultrina sighed and reached up to wipe her face, the chill of the rock did nothing against the warmth radiating from the pit. She scooted back from it and waited for the others to make a decision. No matter what she thought, they would have to decide something.
Tal tried to see into the pit without getting too close, craning her neck.
“Is there a way to stop it from hurting anyone else?” Tal asked.
“We can seal it from above, but that won’t stop someone from digging it out again and using it.”
“Still, we cannot simply leave something like this behind us for someone else to fall into. Another child to fall into.”
Mongen took a deep breath, an uneasy sound in the darkness. “We can seal the passage,” he said. “If we do that, no one can get to it and no one will know it is here.” He waved at the others to precede him out of the chamber. Ultrina glanced back at the well and considered it for a brief second before heading out of the chamber.
“We have to do something before that thing manages to escape. Ultrina, what can you do?”
“I don’t know,” Ultrina admitted. Ghosts were important creatures among the undead, but she did not have much experience dealing with them. She did not say that however. Instead, she kept the knowledge to herself. She would simply have to do the best she could with the limited knowledge she had.
Mongen stared at her with steely eyes as if he were trying to see into her thoughts, Ultrina stared back waiting for him to lose his nerve. Few had been able to deal in contact with her for very long, but if anyone could it would be the Giant of Renate. When he looked away, it wasn’t out of fear but a noise which caught his attention.
Something, nearby, scrabbled against the stone, scratching and searching hungrily.
Ultrina heard it too and turned toward the sound bringing her hands up in defense. She couldn’t do much, but she would still fight to the death.
“What’s that?” Tal asked, her body tense to the point of quivering.
Mongen looked from one woman to the other, making a gesture for silence. The something scented the air, a deeply indrawn breath.
Ultrina flipped a coin in her mind: alive or dead? In this place, she could only guess it could be either. Her eyes offered her a vision of a spectral dog, a creature which had been alive once certainly but now served long after its death. A guard dog would make sense. How the children hadn’t been eaten by it, she didn’t know, but maybe it had only begun to wake as they left.
It mattered little. It was between them and the exit, and hunting them.
“Unbind me,” Ultrina said. “You’ll need my skills.”
Mongen made no move to undo her bindings, but hefted his own great sword in the direction of the sound. He gestured for Tal to move to the back and stay out of the immediate way.
Then it stepped into view.
It was not a dog; at least, not anymore.
Ultrina had heard of such things as this, but never seen one. A monster made of flesh and bone and reanimated with the spirits of the howling damned. The flesh moved over the dog’s skeleton with flashes of light peeking through. The heads, three of them, moved in unison as if they suddenly sensed they were not alone. It easily could have taken up the entire chamber, but it waited for them in the space where it roamed freely.
“It’s not hunting us,” Tal said. “What is it looking for?”
Ultrina kept her thought to herself and waited for Mongen’s response. The giant carefully examined their opponent and said,
“How does one kill that?”
“You don’t,” Ultrina said. “It would wipe the floor with the three of us. Most likely, it’s looking for its maker.” The flesh-made were incredibly loyal to their makers.
“So how do we get past it to get away?”
“Wait for it to move and then scurry away like the mice we are.” Mongen did not look amused at her words, but Ultrina found herself not caring. She was still bound in this situation. If everyone else got themselves eaten, she would have to continue on until she got to a blacksmith willing and able to crack the steel chains binding her. Then she might give the man the metal in exchange for his help and take off for parts hithereto unknown to necromancers.
As predicted, the creature moved away from the entrance a few minutes later, still sniffing the air looking for someone. The trio made their way out of the cave system and into the open air again.
They headed back toward the caravan then, each tied up in their own thoughts, having to do with the death of a little girl to save the entire caravan. The inarticulate screams of rage rose to the sky as they drew closer. A ring had formed around the afflicted wagon, but far enough back no one could put a hand on the wood.
Ultrina walked through until she could see the doorway of the wagon clearly before her. She could feel the anger inside, and knew the only thing keeping it there was the white cloth. The white cloth covering everything signified death. The dead were always a little leery of it.
Mongen ranged to one side of her and Tal took up the other.
“What are we going to do?” Tal asked. “We don’t dare kill the child.”
“If we don’t, soon it will get brave enough to leave it’s confines.”
The Oloa began to walk to the wagon with his staff held in front of him like a shield.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m going to remove the spirit from the child,” he said. “Now that I know what is wrong, I can cure it.”
Ultrina doubted he could cure it as he claimed, but allowing him to try gave her more time. It would, hopefully, be enough to let her figure out what to do next. She needed her ax, but she didn’t dare pull out what she wanted in front of so many. She would simply have to remember what she could.
Watching him move, Ultrina considered her options. Killing the child from a distance would probably be for the best. The closer one got, the more chance of something going wrong. Plus ghosts could often exhibit powers humans did not.
This ghost had already shown the ability to force a body to float in the air. What else could it lift?
The Oloa moved closer to the wagon, chanting and waving his staff in a slow ceremony of movement.
Tal watched with hard eyes, but said nothing. Ultrina could only guess Tal didn’t wish to have to be saved again from the creature the child had become. Narsan moved close to the trio and waited for them to notice her before speaking.
“What did you learn?”
“Your child is possessed by a ghost,” Mongen said while waving Ultrina to silence. “And the ghost is deadly.”
“What does that mean?”
“There is only one way to end this.”
Ultrina shook her head at Mongen’s words. There were other ways to end things, but this would be the fastest and cost the fewest number of lives. She did not dispute him, choosing inside to continue watching the Oloa who moved around the wagon with undulations like a serpent now. The child’s throat must have been raw from the screaming fits of rage the ghost gave out. It would be a miracle if she could speak when it was done.
Of course, if Mongen had his way, the child would be dead and it wouldn’t matter. Ultrina shut her eyes. Her imagination went back to the faces of her parents, burned into her memory on the final day she had known them, when they forced her away with a scroll hidden around her waist bound by a belt. They were gone. Marched away peacefully to be executed like so many others were during the Culling. Shaking her head, Ultrina cleared her vision of the memory. It did her no good in the current circumstances. Therefore, better to focus on the now.
The wood of the wagon groaned as if it were being stressed by a great force. Everyone, collectively, took a step back as if waiting for it to explode outward. Then it sighed, the wood relaxing back into place. Then again, it was as if the wagon breathed from within with its rhythmic groaning and sighing. Ultrina knew it couldn’t take the strain forever. It had to give and it would, soon.
When the first of the wood snapped outward, it went with a exploding pine knot sound. Snapping so suddenly and completely, several of the onlookers ran for cover. Ultrina stood her ground and waited. The Oloa, undeterred, continued his chanting and staff waving patterns.
Something was happening.
Ultrina blinked at the white hot spot in her vision.
The ghost was getting angrier.
Shrapnel whipped outward from the wagon as it exploded, the ghost ridden child in the center. The white linen which had adorned the wagon shredded in a thousand places. Ultrina protected her eyes, catching wood splinters in her hands. The smell of her blood disturbed her, but she kept her eyes on the ghost.
It would make its next move soon. It was free.
The Oloa moved to stand between the people and the ghost, his staff raised in defiance. Ultrina watched as the ghost oriented on him, fixing him with a baleful glare a child should not have been capable of. However, the child’s face had already changed, there was a hunger there no human, not even a starving one, could produce. It was a hunger for life brought to an end, a need to murder.
Ultrina brought her hands together in a prayer position. Mongen moved beside her hefting his great sword.
“We must protect the people,” Mongen said. “Killing her is the only way to stop this.”
Narsan closed her eyes, fists balled up tight against her sides. “Do what you must.”
Tal brought her fingers to her lips and a kiss of fire appeared. The kiss of fire turned into a tongue of flame which sought to engulf the ghost.
Undeterred by the flames, the ghost advanced, coming down to ground level where its toes dragged the sand.
Ultrina stepped backward as Mongen moved into striking posture. With her hands tied, there wasn’t much she could do fighting wise and dying was simply not on her mind. She would rather concede the field.
A man brought Narsan a crossbow and the older woman sighted on her child’s head. The bolt flew true until it was mere inches away, then it crashed and splintered on an unseen barrier.
“How do we stop it?” Narsan asked, her eyes dropping. Ultrina saw the barest sheen of tears there.
Mongen struck at the ghost as the Oloa was tossed aside like a rag doll. Ultrina heard something break when he hit the ground. She hoped it was his staff and not a bone. Either way, the old man was too unconscious to be of further use. Mongen’s sword tip clanged off the barrier around the ghost.
“It’s untouchable,” he said, mystified.
“It’s a ghost,” Ultrina said. She furiously went over in her mind what the scroll said about taming ghosts. Stopping a ghost from rampaging meant saving lives. A tiny voice in the back of Ultrina’s mind also said that a ghost as a ally might well be useful later. She silenced it quickly, such a strange thought to have when one was in the middle of trying to save lives.
It advanced and Ultrina stood her ground, feeling things move around her. The ghost approached, toes leaving drag marks in the soft ground. Of course there was nothing Ultrina could do physically with her hands tied. However, she could project the aura of fearlessness and stand her ground against what came. The ghost moved right up to her and seemed to be feeling her aura, waiting for something to happen. Ultrina put her bound hands out to it, pressing her fingers against the forehead of the child. A moment later, the body crumbled to the ground along with the multiple bits of shrapnel which had continued to float in the air.
“How?” Mongen asked even as Narsan sprinted forward to grab up her child from the ground.
Ultrina blinked, she could still see the ghost which paced back and forth outside the body as if looking for a way back in, but she didn’t have an answer for Mongen’s question. She knew she needed to be fearless in the face of what was coming, but how her mind had been able to thrust the ghost from the body, she honestly didn’t know.
“I don’t know.”
“I owe you everything,” Narsan said. “My heir is saved.” The child drew in deep ragged breaths against her mother’s chest.
The ghost, unseen by everyone but Ultrina, gathered close to the necromancer.
What would you have me do?
Nothing for now, Ultrina thought, her eyes roving over him. It was a him, a ghost of a young man with part of his head bashed in. His life had been cut short by violence it appeared. Stay near.
It morphed from a man into a flame and landed in her hand to be snuffed by Ultrina who knew it would stay close to her and perhaps even do her bidding.
“What can I offer to you?” Narsan asked Ultrina.
“You can offer us safe passage into Renate,” Ultrina said. “We have business there.”
“You will enter Renate as a princess,” Narsan said. “My child is more precious to me than anything else in this caravan. My triumvirate will honor you.”
Ultrina ducked her head, warm brown skin coloring slightly at the praise. Her suspicion did not allow her to take the compliments without worrying slightly over what was going to happen next. She had been too often betrayed by humans to not fear what might well come.
Mongen spoke then,
“Perhaps you should return to your wagon with your child.”
“I would have this one’s bonds removed,” Narsan said.
“I will not run away,” Ultrina said. “I will, quietly, go with you to Renate.”
Tal stood nearby and nodded her head in agreement when Mongen looked to her. Withdrawing a key from his breastplate, he unlocked Ultrina’s bonds.
“Do not run, or the next time I catch you I will execute you myself.”
“Understood,” Ultrina said.
Ultrina sat on the stairs of the wagon looking out into the camp, her eyes seeking out the near burnt out fires from the night’s celebration.
A drunken soldier staggered past and offered her a salute before continuing on into the wagons.
Narsan had thrown a party for the recovery of her child, making Ultrina the guest of honor. It had been quite a festive thing. Stores of food and drink which had been held for the mourning were opened and allowed to everyone. Ultrina drank little, but ate until her stomach felt a bit uncomfortable. Mongen and Tal both stayed close together and were asleep inside the wagon now. Mongen’s bulk might quite a different sound from the smallness of Tal. Ultrina wondered at her inability to rest herself. Mental strength had been enough to bring the ghost down, a contrast from the physical attempts made by others.
Putting her hands out in front of her, Ultrina summoned the vision of a flame rising between her palms. The ghost’s face appeared in the flames and offered her a scowl.
What may I do for you?
Ultrina considered the question.
I need information. Can you get it for me?
What information do you desire?
Ultrina did not know the capabilities of ghosts as well as she did the puppets, so she stopped to think about what she could ask for. She needed to test what was possible, so what was a good test? Tilting her head to one side, she analyzed the situation before her. Mongen didn’t care for her to be free. Narsan had demanded her release when Ultrina saved her daughter. Now she had to consider whether or not to have the ghost go spying on what was happening through out the camp. If she remembered things, a ghost could travel a distance in a body, but not so far on its own.
Do not possess anyone, but range about the camp and learn what you can about these people. If you hear something of interest, come tell me.
The flame spun as a miniature tornado and then disappeared. Ultrina smiled, a curve coming to full lips.
She would hear a great deal from the ghost, she had no doubt, but some of it might be useful to her to build a strategy.
While Ultrina sat on the stairs of the wagon, Tal got up from her bunk and moved over to Mongen. “Are you still awake?”
The Captain opened his eyes, flickering them around the room. “Where’s Ultrina?”
“Outside. I need to speak to you about her.”
“Then speak.”
“I think we have to trust her.”
“I don’t think we can,” Mongen said leaning up on one elbow. “She makes monsters and has no reason to be trustworthy.”
“She could have run in the confusion with the ghost, but she stood her ground with us and managed to bring it down before many were killed.”
Tal did consider the few who were killed by the exploding wagon, but there was nothing further which could be done for them.
“We have to trust her or she may make trouble.”
“If she makes trouble, I will bind her again and add a silence bag over her head.”
“Mongen,” Tal hissed. “She isn’t a normal prisoner and if we treat her as such, we make her an enemy.”
“Do you think she isn’t? Just because she comes quietly doesn’t mean she’s on our side.”
“For now, we have to act as if she is.”
Mongen stopped, his eyes looking past Tal’s head.
“If I do this, you must be willing to kill her if something goes terribly wrong.”
“Tell me what you mean,” Tal said.
“I mean, if she turns on us, then we need to be prepared to kill her before she becomes a greater problem.”
Tal kept her shock off her face. Killing Ultrina was not something she could do, but they had Mongen and the security of the caravan, perhaps it would be enough. “Yes,” she said plainly.
Tal crossed back to her bunk on the far side of the wagon and laid down. There were alcoves for things, but her small amount of stuff was stowed underneath the bunk. She probably wouldn’t sleep until Ultrina came in, just to keep any eye on her. The woman had shown herself to be capable of violence but that was not all there was to her.
Tal closed her eyes, sinking into the edge of sleep where she was still a little alert. Ultrina would come in some time later and Tal would finally allow herself to fall asleep.
Ultrina re-entered the wagon and sat down on her bunk. Though she had been offered a place in Narsan’s wagon for the night, Ultrina preferred to stay near her things. Given her choice, she would have bedded down with the horses outside under the stars. However, she didn’t want Mongen to think he needed to look for her once again. As she laid there in the night, the ghost returned appearing standing in the center of the wagon, his face ruined by the violence which had killed him.
What did you find?
There are many who are asleep, barely capable from their drinking. There are few who have fallen asleep their strength and wits about them. None speak to me.
Ultrina let her eyes rest on the floor between the ghost’s feet. She didn’t care to stare at the destroyed face. The less she looked at it, the less likely it was to visit her in her dreams. She had dreams enough of those who she had killed herself, there was no need to add to their number.
Tell me how you came to be here, Ultrina murmured the words even as she thought them.
Long ago, I was a common farmer. Though she wanted to ask his name, Ultrina didn’t interrupt. For the moment, the ghost seemed willing to speak. She would not squander the opportunity.
During that time, a great necromancer lived in the land. I bartered myself to him for food to feed my family. The need in the land was great and many were dying and lying untouched by either turned earth or fire. When I died, years later, I realized what I had bartered myself for truly. He made me a part of his pit, a great multitude of ghosts, many killed by the famine in the land. Anger came through from the ghost’s thoughts and Ultrina raised her eyes slowly to take in its entire self. His head had been bashed in, that much appeared to be true, but she had not realize how gaunt he was. Hollowed cheeks, sunken eyes, the face of one whose last meal was some time ago. We became his horde. His unstoppable horde. Until he was betrayed by one of his own triumvirate. They sealed everything away in the mountain, including those of us in the pit, and left there.
There is more in the mountain than the Cerberus?
It guards what should never again see the light of day.
Ultrina closed her eyes and considered the ghost’s words. An unremembered clutch of knowledge from the time when necromancy was practiced often. She considered her paltry learning from the single scroll given to her by her gone parents. To know more, to do more, to be more powerful, it called to her. There was the thought to slip away into the night and leave everything behind in search of the hidden treasury, but she didn’t dare. She had given her word she would not run. Her word and Mongen would see her dead before he would allow her to escape.
If Ultrina survived long enough, she would return to this place and seek what was unknown there. For all she knew, the fount of knowledge had been defiled by grave robbers from another time, but she could only hope it was not.