Heretic Part 2 Chapter 13

Heretic

Part Two

Chapter 13

The rain that had started a few hours after noon had grown to a swelling downpour. The wet air and the sound of the drops splattering on the stones of the island woke some memory of the rainforest in the kettha beast that Vehx occupied, and it wanted to crawl out from beneath the piled blankets where he hid, to go out under the cover of rain and hunt for undefended eggs and shrews in their dens. Nevermind that there wasn’t a tree around for miles. Not for the first time Vehx marveled at the stupidity of beasts that kept their wits in unreliable bags of wet meat. And humans were no better.

“Why do you hesitate? It is obvious what needs to be done. Methatt’s life was squandered by this creature’s meddling, but her life should be enough to make up the difference.” The voice of the woman came slightly muffled to Vehx’s hiding space, though she was no more than five feet away, sitting straight-backed around the firepit across from the young cleric dressed in black. The woman was older, past her young-raising years, and the young man had a crippled foot. That was probably why the villagers had made him a cleric, Vehx guessed, as he would be of less use in a hunt. He did not particularly care who they were, but he’d heard the other children tell Ylla the woman’s name was Iettaw, the man Guadan.

Iettaw seemed to be the superior one, looming over Guadan with a cold expression, while the club-footed cleric kept his gaze down on the fire, shoulders slumped as though cringing before a blow. Still, he was not ready to roll over and show his belly.

“We do not know this. If only Ulm-etha would speak to me, let me know what he desires,” Guadan said.

“Ulm-etha does not parley with his servants, no more than Maesa does. They gifted us this land, with everything we need to survive, and asked for only one thing in return. I say again, the girl must have done something, some heresy, to stop the sacrifice from completing. Ulm-etha has weakened. Maesa feels it too. She does not speak, but I know her moods,” Iettaw argued.

“How can the girl be responsible alone? This is not the first time a sacrifice has failed to revitalize the stone. Four times, now, I have performed the ritual, as my teacher taught me. Something has been stopping them, long before this grasslander came to our lake! Putting all the blame on her will change nothing!”

Grimacing, Guadan turned to the side, where Ylla lay unconscious on a sleeping mat, blankets piled on her so that only her face emerged. Her skin was wan, coated in a droplets of sweat, and her eyes were clenched shut tight. Every few seconds, her body would convulse, too softly for the humans to notice, but Vehx could feel it through his link to her. Isaand should bloody well be here, he thought, not for the first time. Healing was his business. What did Vehx know about taking care of a sick pup? Hiding here listening to clerics bicker was accomplishing nothing. He’d have been better off leaving to find Isaand and bring him back. But when he’d tried, he’d felt a sharp pain and a convulsion of his own, paralyzing his limbs until he decided to stay. Isaand had commanded him to protect the girl, and so he had no choice but to stay, by the godsdamned rules Szet had placed on him.

“The reason doesn’t matter. You know what will happen if Ulm-etha is not appeased. It has already begun, in case you hadn’t noticed. Some of the smaller islands, the ones with no standing stones, have already fallen a dozen feet. Some are beneath the surface already. Something has to be done. Instead of sitting around sniveling, you should be doing what you can to help.”

“Even if she’s innocent? She’s just a girl.”

“Hundreds of girls will die if nothing is done, and hundreds of boys too. Men and women, babes and elders. The path is clear.”

Guadan had no answer, and for a few moments the hut was blessedly quiet, with only the crackling of the fire and the falling rain to break the silence. Then came a quiet scratching at the door flap. Vehx twitched an ear, and was able to hear the movement of a large male human outside the door.

Guadan leapt up quickly, most of his weight on his good foot, and hobbled over to open the door. The man Tokaa, the one Isaand had healed after he’d been bit by the Sendra, stood outside. He was soaked by the rain, shivering slightly. His eyes shifted past the cleric to where Ylla was lying on her mat, and his expression twisted. Vehx could smell fear on him, though he did not know or care what precisely it meant.

“Honored ones,” Tokaa muttered, and Guadan ushered him inside to the fire, muttering platitudes about the rain. Iettaw did not rise, but turned her hawk-like gaze on him.

“The task is done?” she asked.

“Yes, blessed. The men you’ve asked for have gathered, across the circle. They are ready to perform as ordered. But I- that is-” Tokaa began to stutter. “I do not think this is necessary, blessed. This man, Isaand, he seemed a good person. He- helped me, when I was-”

“Have no fear, more than one loyal worshiper has already brought the tale to me. You allowed this heathen to heal you with some apostate’s spell. No doubt you feel some gratitude towards him, misguided though it may be. Maesa is merciful, and I will not require you to return his assistance with betrayal, if that’s how you see it. You will remain in your home for the rest of this night. The others will see to this Isaand,” Iettaw said. As she spoke, she rose, her old bones creaking, and wiped at her skirts before straightening up to her full height. “I’d best go and speak to them directly.”

“Yes, blessed, but…” Tokaa couldn’t stop his gaze from turning to Ylla again. “If I may ask, what will you do with the child?”

“If it were up to me, I know what I would do. But that which occurs on the Father’s stones is the purview of his cleric.” She shot Guadan another look that he failed to meet. “Ask Guadan, and hope that he comes to a wise decision. And soon, I should think.” The woman cleric left without another word, sweeping out into the rain.

“You have five children, Tokaa, is that so?” Guadan asked.

“Yes blessed. And a grandchild on the way.”

“What if I told you that to save their lives, this little girl must die. If I gave you the knife, would you kill her?”

Tokaa hesitated, eyes widening, and Guadan let out a despairing laugh. “No, don’t answer. It is a hypothetical, nothing more. Go, stay in your home tonight, as Iettaw said. We will settle things here, by Ulm-etha’s will.”

Tokaa left, and things were calm for awhile. Vehx yawned, and considered crawling out to get closer to the fire. It was warm enough there, in the folds of the blankets he’d snuggled under out of sight, but the rain had soaked into his fur and he’d have loved the chance to dry it out. And he supposed he could get a closer look at Ylla as well, though he didn’t know what good it would do. He knew what the problem was. She’d abused her connection to the Churn, reaching out to the dying Metthat, and somehow taken his soul into her own, adding it to the mixed and matched pieces she’d brought back from her own death. The soul was attached to her own, not a few shredded remnants like those she’d already borne, but a whole, much larger and older than her own, and as their souls combined into one it put much strain on her mind and body. She would have to be strong to keep it from overwhelming her, and honestly, Vehx did not expect her to survive it. He knew nothing that could be done to help her. Perhaps a true god, one with the power to manipulate the souls of the dead, could cut it away or ease the transition, but the only god in these parts who might could help would be this Ulm-etha, and he didn’t seem capable. That one seemed to have a foot in the grave already. And when he’s gone, all the stones he rose and shaped from the earth will sink back into the mud they came from, and all his people with them. Those that swim to shore will be apostates, with no place to go to take them in, Vehx thought. They should have tried harder to keep Ulm-etha fed.

Cleric Guadan paced around the hut a few times, dragging his club foot, then knelt on the bare stones and pressed his forehead and palms to the floor. Vehx could just hear his lips moving, uttering a private prayer to Ulm-etha through the basalt. As always when a mortal prayed, Vehx felt a vibration of faith pouring off of him, resonating through the True World behind the vale of the mundane, rocking him as it passed. The kettha’s mouth began to water, and his muzzle opened to pant without him meaning for it too, the stupid beast interpreting the prayer as food close at hand. Vehx felt a longing, wishing he could slip free of his bonds for just a moment and soak in that genuine faith, which would sustain him far more than the fresh meat he ate to fulfill his sendra ban. But it would seem the prayer would go wasted. Ulm-etha did not stir. Whatever has locked him away from his followers did a damn fine job of it.

After a time, Guadan rose, looking no better than before. He went and knelt at Ylla’s side, checking her temperature, then stood and went forth into the rain, following after Tokaa.

As soon as he was sure Guadan wasn’t coming right back, Vehx moved. First he called upon his power and uncoupled himself from his physical aspect, transforming the kettha’s body into a glimmering golden ghost of drifting particles. Insubstantial, he floated out of the his nest of blankets without disturbing it, and alighted on Ylla’s softly rising chest. Returning to his regular form, he crouched and hissed at her face, digging his claws into the blanket so she would feel them. The unconscious girl paid no attention to his sudden weight, nor his hisses and clawing. As he tried to think of what to do, the idiot kettha decided to turn itself in a number of circles, as though smoothing down the tall grass, then wrap up in a ball on top of her. At least I’ll be comfortable.

This was the first time Vehx had been alone with Ylla since her foolish capturing of Metthat’s soul during the sacrifice ritual. When Ylla had absorbed the sacrifice, it had strained the material membrane, the True Realm scraping across its surface. Thunder had boomed and light intensified, and afterward the ignorant villagers had even attributed the sudden storm to the fainted girl. Though none of the villagers had a godseye to see what she’d done, it had been obvious something had happened, and cleric Iettaw had taken charge, placing the child under watch, with orders given out to find her guardian and take him into custody as well. Within an hour, it had become obvious that Isaand Laeson was not anywhere within the village, and the people had begun to mutter their fears and suspicions, believing the strangers somehow responsible for all their troubles. There is nothing these fishermen can do to threaten us, but Isaand may not be able to bring himself to unleash me upon them, Vehx thought. Though he was quick enough to leap into a querulous argument, Isaand had a squeamishness when it came to true conflict, and he’d always kept Vehx’s power held in reserve. A waste. He has to know I will not be his slave forever.

Frustrated, Vehx climbed back to his feet and stepped closer to Ylla’s face, where her shallow breaths brushed his whiskers. Using his path, he batted at her cheeks and lips, trying to provoke a response.

“Wake up, girl. I am bored from all this lying about. Get up, and we’ll go find Isaand and leave this place before that cleric works up the courage to gut you.”

Ylla did not respond, any more than she had from the cleric’s poking and prodding. Her soul is in flux. Maybe I can do something about that.

Vehx spread his paws wide, digging his weight into her as though preparing for a pounce, and with all his might willed his power down, into her body. He could feel his True self straining against the chains of Szet, a sensation like pins and needles boring into his soul. Her soul was right there, inches away, and yet he could not reach her, bound as he was.

The pins and needles grew sharper, and were soon replaced by knives and spear-heads. The kettha began to shriek, a shrill animal sound of distress, but Vehx gritted his teeth and ignored the pain. He was a timeless being; he’d lived more pain and suffering than a million humans. He would not be held back by a little agony. He could feel the kettha’s heart beating wildly, the blood rushing through his veins, adrenaline and fear flooding into his muscles, driving him to run, to hide, to bare his fangs and claws. He shut off that pointless impulse, straining harder. His true power, a boundless core of burning energy like an inner sun, was expanding, stretching the curse of Szet wrapped around it. He felt eyes on him, drawn from all over the world, gods and goddesses perking up like beasts at the sound of a predator’s howl. The water on his fur began to turn to steam, and his legs gave out, dropping him in a heap on Ylla’s chest.

Szet’s chains held strong.

“What does it matter?” Vehx asked aloud, though only Ylla could hear him. “You’re not worth the bother. It’d be better for us all if you just died. Get yourself churned up and be born some happier place.”

The kettha was exhausted. In its limited mind, it did not know what had happened, though it seemed to think some kind of battle had been won. After all, such a lowly creature counted any battle it survived as a victory, knowing nothing of pride or principle. Vehx lay still, letting the beast’s mind become quiescent as its body slept. Vehx himself was always conscious, though the sensation of sleep was not unpleasant. With his senses shut away, he was left drifting in an empty void, with only his own thoughts for company. At times, he found it relaxing.

A sharp sensation interrupted his rest, and he perked up. A connection, gone slight by the distance between them, had flickered back into place, somewhere to the southwest. Isaand was coming back. Finally.

Vehx willed his body to wake, and ran across the floor to the flap of hide at the entrance. As he tried to cross it, he once more felt the sharp pain from before, and his muscles ceased to move, leaving him lying limp on the smooth stones. Damn it, I’m going to Isaand. He’s right over there. He’s my master and I’m going to see if he needs anything.

There was a bit of a twinge in his muscles, as if Szet’s miracle was considering his point. Then he found himself able to move again, though there was still a bit of discomfort and sluggishness. Sighing, he sprinted out into the rain.

With the fires all extinguished and the stars and moon obscured by dark clouds, the village was all black stone and shadows, shiny and sleek with water. The lake that swept out in every direction was as clear as ever, but where the rain hit the surface it was churning, turned murky with the constant influx of unblessed water. Fortunately kettha could see quite well in the dimness, so Vehx dashed down the main path, shivering from the cold. Even if he couldn’t see, he could feel Isaand’s proximity.

Down at the docks, a boat was pulling up with two figures bundled onto it. Isaand’s tall form bounded out, slipping immediately on the wet stone and going down hard on one knee. Shakily, he got back to his feet and offered a hand down to the woman in the boat, rather a silly gesture considering how he’d just fallen. The woman took it anyway and he pulled her up.

“It’s about time you got back,” Vehx snarled. Isaand jumped, though the woman did not respond at all, except at his reaction. Isaand scanned around, and Vehx shifted momentarily into his insubstantial form, letting its golden glow illuminate him on the ground.

“Vehx! It’s good that you’re here, we need your help,” Isaand said. He knelt lower and began emphatically explaining what had happened, how he’d joined up with another heretical lector and fought with the other sendra and blah blah blah. He acts as though he needs me to understand, to consent to his orders. Even now, he hates to think of himself as a slaver.

“Where’s Ylla?” he finally asked, blinking around at the darkness as though the girl might be lurking behind him.

“Unconscious. Possibly dying,” Vehx said, relishing the way Isaand’s eyes went wide at his words. “Though I suppose if she does you can always just raise her again, though she might be a bit worse for wear-”

“You were supposed to be watching her,” Isaand said. His words hit Vehx like a physical force, the link between them transforming his anger into a mental strike that knocked all the thoughts out of Vehx’s head. He felt as though a heavy weight were pushing down on him, slowly grinding his bones together, but he did his best to show no discomfort.

“I cannot protect the pup from herself. She did something very stupid.”

Isaand got the story out of him quickly enough, though he had to pause to explain things to the woman Ratha. With a casual order, Vehx was given the requirement to speak to her as well.

“Isaand, Guadan is a kind man… but he is obedient as well,” Ratha said. “If we leave Ylla here, he’ll sacrifice her for sure.”

“Then we’ll take her,” Isaand said, looking uncertain. “Though… I’m not sure where would be safe. If the Lsetha attacks while we’re in the boat…”

“That’s why we came back for Vehx, right?” Ratha said, eyeing him with interest. Vehx sensed none of Isaand’s trepidation from her. She looked at him like a useful tool.

“Yes, of course. Let’s get her and go then. It would seem we’ve overstayed our welcome in this village already,” Isaand said. Vehx wasn’t listening to him. The kettha’s ears had perked up, the sound of bare feet slapping on wet rock-

“Traveler Isaand Laeson!” a voice boomed out from the rock above. Vehx turned, and lightning flashed, showing the silhouttes of a dozen fishermen blocking the path to the village, about fifty feet back. Each one of them had a long spear or several small spears to hand, and they were brandishing them in what they seemed to think was a war-like fashion. Of course, they’d have someone watching.

“That is I,” Isaand said cheerily. “Who asks?”

“Cleric Iettaw has sent us to confront you about your suspicious activity. You’re to surrender your belongings and consent to have your hands bound and your mouth gagged, to be brought before the cleric,” the fisherman shouted.

“That sounds unpleasant. Should I refuse?”

“Then your body will be given to mother Maesa,” the fisherman answered, and each of them hefted their spears.

Part Two: Chapter Fourteen