8 The Circle

Lorn eyed the boy as he lay in the cot inside what looked like a church from the outside. None of the buildings in Tharaxis made sense; no matter what they appeared to be outside, when she entered, they were always something different or unexpected.

Ghostly birds fluttered across the vaulted ceiling, vanishing through the wall, but there was otherwise no sign of activity. They were alone. The souleaters had ceased their attack, but Aiyana had indicated another could occur any moment. They were random as far as she could tell, and the eaters numerous.

‘Who is he?’ asked Lorn in a quiet voice. It felt odd asking it that way, knowing he was dead. Surely, she should have asked who he had been? Then again, her perception of what it meant to exist was evolving. She was dead. They all were, and yet in a way, they persisted. They existed.

‘Someone who has given me hope,’ answered the former imperatrix. Aiyana stood beside her staring down at the boy. He didn’t sleep, being dead, but lay there as though in a trance. Now and then he muttered something, but it was often unintelligible. ‘This boy has been in Tharaxis for centuries, at least from his perspective. And somehow, the souleaters never defeated him.’

Lorn stared down at the hapless child, feeling there was something here she needed to know. ‘What do you mean, “they never defeated him?”’

Aiyana knelt and brushed back Yaldo’s hair as a mother might, with fondness. ‘He’s been through this before,’ she said in a quiet voice.

‘You mean, he was attacked before?’

Aiyana nodded. ‘Twice as far as I know, but he pulled through. He is angel-touched, I think.’ Aiyana glanced up at Lorn and squinted a little. ‘Different, like you.’

‘So, there is hope for him this time?’

Aiyana didn’t answer, while the shraed appeared to be examining the dead boy, his form hoovering horizontally overhead. His dark essence licked the boy’s body from head to toe as though tasting him.

‘Ax?’ Lorn demanded with a hiss, ‘What in the name of the Spectrum above are you at?’ She had grown fond of Axiom in the short time she’d known him, against her better judgement it had to be said, but then, that wasn’t unusual for her. Still, she couldn’t trust him. Not fully. A shraed was what it was.

‘He’s seeing if there is a way to ward off the infection,’ Aiyana replied. ‘Dark things, dark states, are something of a hobby for him.’

‘Oh, so, that’s how he recovered before.’

However, Aiyana shook her head. ‘Actually, no. Axiom tried to help, and failed. He has also tried it on the Fractured, which this boy should have become one of, a long time ago. Yet, for some reason, the infection always fails of its own accord. Still, he is becoming ...’ Aiyana paused watching the boy, her form turning transparent, her face screwed up in anguish. It was clear she was fond of the dead boy, and wanted to help him.

Lorn then noticed a pulsing beneath the child’s skin, or what passed for skin when one was a soul. She stepped closer and realised the lines forming within him were geometric. They pulsed a golden hue, and vanished.

‘What was that?’ she demanded pointing at the boy. ‘I saw glowing shapes inside of him. Is that normal?’

Aiyana seemed perplexed, and alarmed. She peered closer at Yaldo, and then rose, taking a step back. ‘I don’t see anything like that.’

‘Me neither,’ said the shraed who had paused in his ministrations, to stare at Lorn as though she was another mystery he needed to solve.

‘What is it you two aren’t telling me?’ Lorn did not like being kept in the dark, especially when it might mean her soul ending up as dinner. There was more going on here.

Aiyana took Lorn’s hand and looked into her eyes as her form became more substantial. ‘Lorn, this boy is becoming a souleater. He is becoming one of them. I don’t know how, or why they’ve chosen him, but that is all you need to know. That is all any of us need to know. We must end this, now.’

Lorn had to take a moment to process the implications of what she’d heard. ‘Are you suggesting ...?’

Aiyana nodded. ‘Souleaters were once ordinary souls like you and I. They existed a long time ago, I imagine. From what observations of the eaters, I and my father managed on this side, it seems there hasn’t been a new souleater for tens of thousands of years. Well, in mortal years at least. It’s a rough estimate.’

She then turned and nodded towards a corner of the church. Lorn followed her.

Turning, Aiyana whispered, ‘We must act immediately. Not just for Yaldo, but for everyone in Tharaxis. The eaters are becoming more aggressive, and their attacks more frequent, with new souls arriving all the time. The situation is dire. If the boy turns, others may follow suit. Their numbers will grow and grow.’

Aiyana hesitated before adding, ‘I know the world of the living shouldn’t be our concern, but what if the eaters run out of souls in Tharaxis. Where will they go next?’

Lorn felt a sickening lurch in her gut, or what should have been her gut. She really needed to get to grips with this death business. ‘Might you be mistaken about the boy?’

Aiyana shook her head, and then sighed. ‘You know, my brother Threadfin once told me he’d seen the dead. He’d been heading towards the city of Byrsa when he’d suffered the vision. He had an ability to see into other realms, other worlds.’

Lorn nodded. ‘Yes, I remember Scats teaching him, trying to help him with his magic.’ Her memory of her former life was almost complete, which made her wonder. She now knew that this wasn’t usual for a dead person. It should have been going in the other direction.

‘Well, at the time, my brother thought it was shraeds attacking souls that he saw, but it wasn’t. It was the souleaters. They’d just looked like shraeds to him through the veil of death, and he’d had little context back then. It’s getting worse, Lorn. Sure, the living must die, but should our afterlife be this way? Imprisoned prey, hunted whenever they feel like it?’

‘How could souls have become souleaters? I don’t know if I can accept this. It seems impossible.’

‘Something turned them into eaters,’ said Aiyana. ‘It was ... old, and largely forgotten from what we’ve learned of it. I don’t know what it is, or was, but there is a name that some like Yaldo have uttered while infected and delirious.’

‘The Primordial,’ whispered Lorn, remembering what Aiyana had told her earlier.

‘I guess,’ said Aiyana, ‘you could say it is the mother of all souleaters. I suspect it itself is something else, something different.’

‘And you think Yaldo is becoming one of those eaters? They’ve rediscovered how to turn souls into them?’

A plush bench materialised behind Aiyana and she sat. Her ability to control her surroundings was impressive. ‘When he recovered from the infection without help, I became afraid, especially when I learned from him that he’d done it at least once before. The Fractured, you’ve seen them?’

Lorn nodded.

‘They should have become eaters but something prevents their change, leaving them halfway gone. For a long time, my father couldn’t understand why they left souls seemingly half eaten. Until I realised what they were doing.’

Lorn grasped her meaning. ‘They’re searching for souls just like Yaldo. Souls they can turn into eaters.’

Aiyana nodded. ‘This implies, of course, that they can’t just turn any soul into one of them. Hence, the Fractured left behind. I believe they can only turn those touched by angelic power in some way. Well, it’s a theory at least.’

‘How does someone become angel-touched to begin with?’

Aiyana shrugged. ‘How did you become Grim-touched? I assume you don’t know all the details of what happened? I imagine it’s similar. Those with power over mortals can use and abuse them as they please.’

Lorn said nothing.

‘Well, such souls are rarer these days than when angels walked among the living regularly. It is likely why there have been no new eaters for so long.’

‘And Yaldo,’ asked Lorn, glancing back to where the wounded child-soul lay, ‘do you know how he became angel-touched?’

‘Possession,’ said Aiyana. ‘He remembers enough of the event, although he doesn’t understand it. He once told me enough of what happened.’ Aiyana paused. ‘I also believe that the eaters were imprisoned here on Tharaxis, and with no new ones being turned, they were no longer a threat.’

‘Wait, who imprisoned them?’ Who could possibly have had such power?

Aiyana bowed her head, examining her hands. She seemed desperate to convince herself she still lived, though she seemed fully aware it was an illusion. ‘We don’t know, but we believe an angel or angels may have been involved. One of the Amerae perhaps, and there were only two of those. However, from what little we learn here in Tharaxis, I believe there is trouble among the angelic hierarchy. Someone provided the Librarian with that list, and I don’t think it was a shraed.’

‘How can you be certain?’

‘Because the eaters feed on shraeds as easily as on souls. They do not seem to distinguish between the two. No shraed would have approached them, and those intelligent and sentient enough to think up such a plan are on a very short list.’

Lorn realised something. ‘You said before that another was meant to join us. You meant Yaldo, didn’t you? You mean to use him to get back the list.’

Aiyana seemed to shrink in on herself as her form became near invisible. ‘We have no choice. The boy will turn, given time, and each attack by an eater leaves him closer to the edge. I cannot save him. I don’t know how.’

Lorn stood there staring at the former imperatrix and though she wanted to shout at her that using a child like this, even a dead one, was wrong, she couldn’t find the words. Aiyana was correct. If the boy was becoming one of them, then why not use him? It was cold. It was logical. And she hated it.

‘What’s the plan? You say we have no time. So, what are we waiting for?’

Aiyana appeared to be crying as she glanced up at Lorn, though it was just an illusion. The dead could shed no tears. ‘I’m waiting for Yaldo to recover from this latest attack. He will need enough strength for this to work. You see, we’re taking him with us, or more accurately, he is our way in.’

Lorn turned away feeling sorrow clench her heart, or at least that place where her heart used to be. How could she feel such emotions in death? Shouldn’t she have felt nothing? Emptiness would have been preferable.

She clenched her hands into fists and then stared down at them. ‘I will need something to fight with. Something I can use against the eaters, against this primordial to be more precise.’ She glanced up at Aiyana. ‘Can you create something for me?’

Aiyana stared back at her for a long moment, before she said, ‘No. Whatever I create could vanish from your hands if I become distracted, or if I fall. It’s better if you learn how to do it yourself.’

‘This is something any soul can do?’ asked Lorn.

Aiyana smiled. ‘No, only those of us who’ve known magic can learn it, and even then, not everyone. However, I think you will be a quick study.’

It was then Axiom materialised in front of them. ‘He’s awake. It’s time.’

***

THEY GATHERED AROUND the boy, who stood in the centre of the circle, all save for Aiyana who knelt before him, holding his hands. There were other souls in the circle with them, none of whom spoke to Lorn. Silent sentinels, grim and determined. Members of Aiyana’s resistance, who never seemed eager to interact with her. They would be coming to help fight off the souleaters while Lorn searched for the list. This plan was far too vague, with no way to know where the list was or how she would recognise it. After all, what form would it take? She doubted it was written on goat hide for example. Maybe in stone?

A massive axe appeared in her right hand, weighing nothing, but evaporated as soon as she examined it. Aiyana had spent what felt like hours teaching her, though in Tharaxis it might have been the equivalent of mortal days or years for all she knew. The process of manifesting an object like an axe had something do with energy, memory, and visualisation. According to Axiom, it was called memorolithics, something another of his non-existent cousins was studying.

In the centre of their circle, Yaldo appeared more distorted, arms longer, face less substantial. If anything, his body had more substance, becoming more real than any of them. Aiyana was correct; he was changing, and if the former imperatrix was to believed, the changes were occurring faster. Whatever block, ward, or spell had been used to prevent souls from becoming eaters, it was failing. She wasn’t at all convinced by the former imperatrix’ angel-touched theory.

‘You will be okay,’ Aiyana whispered to the dead child. ‘We’re going to help you through this.’

Yaldo nodded and smiled. ‘I know. Sorry about before. Sometimes the darkness is hard to keep away. I’ve been waiting for this for a long time. It’s okay.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Lorn.

The boy turned and looked up at her. ‘I know I’m turning into an eater, but I don’t want to. I want to be me. I want to find my family too. For a long time, I pretended someone would come to save me. I didn’t believe though. It was just pretend.’ His face brightened. ‘But you came.’

‘How do you know it’s me?’ she found herself whispering. ‘Not someone else?’

He shrugged. ‘I just do.’ He paused and then added, ‘We’re going to fight them, aren’t we?’ If anything, he seemed excited, like a little boy on his birthday before he got to open his gifts.

Lorn’s heart began to break. ‘Aiyana,’ she whispered, ‘I don’t think we should do this. It isn’t right.’

Axiom was beside her, but remained silent, watching with what seemed like resignation. If anything, she thought the shraed was disturbed by what was happening, and that only made her feel worse. If it bothered him, it was definitely not right.

It was Yaldo who answered her, however. ‘I know I won’t be coming back. It’s okay. This is my choice. My family are long dead, and I’m alone. It’s better this way. So long as we can beat the eaters, and so long as I don’t become one of them, maybe I can still find them.’

Aiyana seemed ready to collapse from grief, but instead, she rose and took her place in the tight circle. They each laid a hand on Yaldo’s head. One soul touching another felt like touching someone when alive. It felt real, solid. Another illusion or because they were all dead? Yet, touching Yaldo’s head, Lorn felt her fingers press inwards; he was becoming more physical, and real. Souleaters, after all, were souls no longer, but physical creatures with bodies.

After a long moment passed, Lorn spoke in a near whisper. It seemed there was no going back. ‘So, how does this work?’

‘The child must transition to their side,’ said Axiom, ‘and us along with him. That’s where I come in. His transition would ordinarily not bring us with him, unless you happen to have a helpful shraed handy.’ Darkness leaked from Axiom like snaking wisps of smoke. They enveloped the boy like vines growing down his body, while entangling the limbs and bodies of everyone else in the circle.

It was then Lorn noticed the oddity surrounding Yaldo. A warping of the air, almost like disturbed water several inches from his skin. Then she felt a tremendous pull on her soul as she was sucked into darkness.