1 City of the Dead

Lorn Larthuz was dead. She didn’t remember the dying bit; her memory of it was hazy, like an ill-remembered dream. She tried to pretend it was just that. A dream. The clues, unfortunately, were all around her. She was on the other side, alone on a hill in a lifeless world.

Beneath a murderous sky filled with purple-black clouds, a vast plain stretched to the horizon where it was met by ridiculously tall mountains. In fact, as she turned, she noted the mountain range surrounded her on three sides. In the distance behind was what looked like the glitter of water. An ocean perhaps.

Below her hill, located in the centre of the plain was the largest city she’d ever seen. Its diameter must have been hundreds of miles, the plain itself three times as big again. It was all on a scale that troubled her, especially since she was coming to terms with her current situation.

While she felt there were gaps in her memories, she recalled hearing tales from other children when she’d been growing up about the white wings of Adal, or the golden feathers of Fakir. The angels would descend from the sky to whisk souls away to their celestial palace. She’d never believed such nonsense, but a small part of her had hoped. Glancing up at those dark clouds, she found it difficult to imagine any angels bursting through them to save her.

I’m actually dead, she thought for the umpteenth time. It had never been in question. She’d just known as soon as she’d arrived. It was like a new sense of a sort.

There was no sun or moon in the sky that she could discern, no heavenly body to provide light, but there was a suffuse glow bathing everything, sickly, unnatural, like a thin wet fog shrouding all.

‘It’s not safe for you to stay here, oh, no, no,’ said a voice behind her. ‘Others have tried, oh, yes, yes.’

Lorn whirled, drawing a dagger from a sheath on her hip, only to find her hand empty. Yes, well, that figured.

An elderly woman stood before her, half turned away, sucking nosily on her lower lip. She appeared to be gazing down on the city. She hacked up and spat, though nothing left her mouth, and then said. ‘You a mute then? Them eaters get your tongue afore you even got here? Or, you still acclimatising yourself to the facts of where you’ve ended up?

‘I know, I know, it can take a while. Took me a long time and a lot o’ screamin’. Bloody thraels and their dark stupid magic!’

Lorn found she had no response, and turned to look down at the city too. It was a walled metropolis filled with buildings of various shapes and sizes, some rising into the clouds. Who had built such a place for the dead? It didn’t make sense.

Closer to her hill, skeletal remains and jagged rocks dotted the expanse amid abandoned ruins. The whisper of ghostly creatures came and went at random, like wafts of smoke given the semblance of shape. These were sometimes accompanied by the odd wail or screech. Lorn shivered, though she felt no cold; it wasn’t that sort of shiver.

The strange woman moved up beside her, still sucking on her lip when not speaking. ‘It’s called Tharaxis, and it’s your home now, yes, yes. At least till it’s done with you. Whether you like it or no. I don’t doubt you won’t neither, no, no. Leastways, I don’t. Still, it’s where we’ve all ended up, yes, yes.’

Lorn glanced at her, but said nothing. What was there to say? She was dead. This old woman was dead. Likely, everyone down in that city was too. She felt the truth of it ... and yet, she also felt solid, whole. The woman seemed real to her too, not ghostly as one might expect, well, a ghost to look. The only ghostly things she saw were those ethereal creatures drifting in and out. Maybe this is how the dead seem to each other.

It took another few moments to realise she was also breathing. With a glance at her companion, she saw they both were. On impulse, Lorn held her breath, sucking in one final gulp. Seconds turned to long minutes, but she felt no burning sensation in her chest, no desperate gasp for air as her body fought to live. She could hold it this way, forever.

Yep, I’m a goner alright.

‘I know,’ said the old woman, eyeing her. ‘It’s a strange one, yes, yes. We act as though we live, but trust me, girl, we don’t.’

‘Yeah,’ Lorn muttered, ‘I sort of figured that out on my own.’

‘Oh, so not a mute then, no, no. Good, good. I don’t like mutes. Don’t like ’em staring back at a soul without a thought in their empty heads. We’ll go down together and join the rest of the miserable lot by the by. They watch, you know. They’ll see you stood here, and they’ll come for you.’

‘Who are you talking about?’

The old woman shook her head. ‘You’ll learn soon enough. Every soul learns, not that learnin’ does any o’ them any good.’

Then the old woman’s face brightened. ‘You know, there’s something like a billion, billion souls in Tharaxis, thereabouts. Don’t look like it should be big enough to hold ’em all, but then most don’t get to stay long.

‘A city like that couldn’t exist in the living world, oh, no, no. No way to feed all those people, but then the dead don’t need to eat, hah!’

She touched Lorn’s elbow gently and began to walk down the hill. ‘I’m Shakti, by the by. Once was a witch, you know, yes, yes. Not no more though, oh, no, no. No witches in death. Just souls. All of us equal. Equally dead, at least, hah!

‘Sometimes I like to come up here and greet the new ones. Guide you in your new existence, so to speak. Oh, yes, yes. A job worth doing for old Shakti.’

Lorn allowed herself to be led, and let the woman’s nattering wash over her. What was the point of resisting? Wasn’t like there was anywhere else for her to be. None of the faiths she’d known had spoken of a place like this, of a huge city filled with souls. It made her want to laugh at the stupidity of all those worshipers. Except, she didn’t feel like laughing. All those candles burned, and prayers whispered. For nothing.

The fact they were walking also confused her. Shouldn’t they have floated about like spirits were meant to? Not that she had much experience to go by, but all those stories had agreed and it seemed logical a spirit would float. She gave a little hop to see if she’d drift upwards. Nope. She just landed back on her feet as though a regular living person. She shrugged, not too interested in understanding it. It was what it was, after all.

‘What’s that smell?’ Lorn demanded wrinkling her nose. An offensive odour assaulted her and she felt herself reeling from it. It wasn’t a scent she could have described. Should I even be able to smell?

Shakti hissed, pulling her onwards. ‘That’s their smell,’ the dead witch muttered, barely audible. She refused to elaborate further despite Lorn’s prodding.

‘How did they all end up here?’ Lorn asked eventually, trying a different tack as they walked, while also trying to ignore the stink.

‘What you mean?’ Shakti asked.

Lorn gestured at the distant city that didn’t seem to be getting much closer. It was so big her perspective had been skewed. ‘This isn’t how it’s supposed to be in the afterlife. You remember? We used all believe in the angels and our souls returning to be one with the Spectrum. I don’t feel one with anything.’

The old woman halted, and stepped out to block her way. She wagged a wrinkled finger under Lorn’s nose. ‘Now, Lorn, my dear, you need to get that rubbish out of your head. Dangerous thinking that way, yes, yes. I’ve seen souls go insane for less, trust me. Your body is gone, but your mind is yours, for now. Keep that up, and you might just lose it sooner than most. Besides, we didn’t all believe in the same rubbish.’

‘Uh, how ... how do you know my name?’ She did not remember giving it. She was certain, in fact, that she hadn’t.

Shakti smiled. ‘Ah, yes, yes, a smart one we have, but then we expected you to be clever. I wasn’t just there for any old soul, you know. I was squattin’ up there, chewin’ on my poor old life, a waitin’ on you, yes, yes. You’re late.’

‘Why?’ Lorn had a strange feeling that death wasn’t going to be a peaceful affair after all.

‘Why is anyone ever late? You should’ve had the decency to at least die on time. There’s important business to be about.’

‘No, I mean ... wait, what?’ Lorn shook her head. No, I don’t want to know. ‘What I meant was, how could you have known I was coming?’

Shakti turned and continued walking, and after a moment Lorn hurried to catch her up. ‘Why were you waiting for me? Answer me, witch!’

‘I told you I’m not a witch no more, no, no. No magic in death. And, I’ve been damned thrice over, girl. Your words won’t make much difference, not here anyways. You’ll just have to be patient. Now, keep moving. Tharaxis is waiting for you.’

***

FOR SEVERAL HOURS – or it might have been days – they walked in silence as the city of Tharaxis loomed larger. The ruins they passed spoke of another world that had once existed, something before the city, perhaps before the dead. This only raised more questions, but she decided against asking them. After all, she had an eternity to find out.

The walls of the city were constructed of massive solid blocks. There were no joins, no sign that it had been built stone by stone as one would expect. Rather the walls were made of one continuous piece, which seemed impossible, but then she assumed this was no ordinary city.

The top of the wall was impossibly high, wreathed in cloud. One oddity was the absence of towers for guards, but then who would guard the dead? The fact there were clouds at all told Lorn this was another world within the Spectrum. Were they prisoners here? She avoided looking up for long, the tumultuous sky a terrifying sight.

The gates of the city stood open and a stream of souls went in. There seemed to be little to no mingling between the people, but then she wasn’t surprised. Why would the deceased stop and chat? What would they have to chat about? Although, Shakti sure had plenty to say.

Several of them caught her eye. Some were more skeletal in nature, eyes haunted, while others were more like Lorn, as though freshly dead. None bore wounds or any sign of how they’d passed, but there were plenty who bore signs of trauma in their faces. Most likely their deaths had been horrifying. Fortunately, Lorn couldn’t remember hers, and was glad for it. She recalled her name, bits of her life too, and knew she’d lived a dangerous one. However, there was a lot hidden beneath a veil she struggled to pierce.

She did remember something specific, though. She’d been standing on a ledge about to jump. Was that how she’d died? In her mind she could see someone behind her. He’d been calling to her, trying to stop her. Someone who’d cared for her. She felt a warmth when she thought of this person, but his name refused to surface.

Before long, Lorn and her companion entered the city. It was an eerie experience for although it seemed like it could have been any metropolis she might have known, it wasn’t right.

Massive twisted buildings towered over squatter uglier ones with a tumble of shacks stuffed in everywhere in-between. Bridges spanned spaces high above, some ending in open air. Streets ended at doors or windows, or were bisected by a building or shack in the middle. The streets themselves were a mix of cobbles, paved stone, or mud. It was as though some mad deity had tossed the whole thing together while drunk.

She saw few of the dead entering or leaving any dwellings. Souls stood in the streets staring at nothing. A few of them were gibbering nonsensically as though insane, and she decided to avoid those.

I guess dying can do that to a mind, she thought. She was glad she still had hers, that she was still herself. Fear fluttered in her gut and she knew it was ridiculous. What was there to be afraid of? She was dead, wasn’t she? Surely, she couldn’t die twice.

She tried asking the old woman about it, but her guide was intent on ignoring questions. ‘Come, come,’ was all she could get out of her, the witch urging her past a knot of souls who looked different. Their faces were splintered, though instead of blood and bone, Lorn saw a dirty golden light. It bled from them, dripping to the ground where it hissed. They also seemed faded.

One of them lurched at her, hands raised as though to claw her face off, but Shakti pulled Lorn after her. ‘You must stay away from those,’ she warned, ‘oh, yes, yes. The Fractured, we term them. Deadly to the likes o’ us. Stay away, yes, yes.’

Shakti half-dragged her towards a tall building with dark windows. Lorn still found the existence of buildings, or a city, confusing. What did the dead want with something so mundane? There was no door, as there wasn’t in any of the buildings, and nothing but a yawning darkness inside. Lorn dragged her heels, hesitating.

‘Too dangerous out here,’ Shakti hissed. ‘You must trust me, yes, yes.’

‘Why?’ asked Lorn. ‘I don’t even know you.’

The old woman grimaced. ‘You were Aidari, little one, yes, yes. Shakti knows. I was once Aidari too, a healer, though we never crossed paths. We must look after our own, Lorn Larthuz, yes, yes.’

She relented, allowing the old woman to lead her indoors. Great, she thought, I go and meet a bloody healer after I’m dead. Says everything about my stupid luck.

A heavy realisation that this was her lot began to settle on her. It was like a dark cloud obscuring her sense of self, and she felt something leaving. Her memories! With great effort, she forced the cloud to dissipate. No. She wasn’t ready to lose herself. Not yet.

Inside, the darkness gave way to a low light cast by several candles, or what she thought were candles. As she drew closer, she noticed faces within the flames. ‘Are these souls too?’

‘All sorts end up in Tharaxis,’ noted Shakti, ‘oh yes. You’ll meet all sorts here. Very dangerous, some, but most are harmless. From different worlds all o’er the Spectrum.’

Lorn made to move her hand across one of the soul flames, but Shakti grabbed her arm. ‘They don’t like that, no, no! They are a passive sort these, but you don’t want to make them mad all the same. They can burn your mind, and then you’ll be worse than the Fractured.’

There was no furniture inside, which made a perverse sort of sense, so Lorn crouched by a wall. Houses, oh, sure why not? A nice chair or a bed, well now, what would a soul want with one of those?

Shakti squatted in front of her. ‘It takes a bit o’ getting used to, my dear, at least for others. But you ... you are different. I think you know it, don’t you? You feel it, yes, yes.’

Lorn felt something in those words, something the old woman wasn’t telling her. ‘What do you want? Why were you waiting for me?’ She didn’t believe the old woman waited for others. She had made that trip out of the city for one arrival.

‘I had to get to you before they noticed,’ Shakti admitted. They watch.

‘They?’

‘And because you are our only hope,’ said a male voice and Lorn leapt to her feet, searching for the speaker.

A dark mist materialised near her, and from it a visage formed. It was barely a face, enough to convey a sense of humanity.

Lorn hissed. ‘A bloody shraed?’ She remembered enough to know what those were. ‘What’s one of those doing here?’

Shakti held up a hand to placate her. ‘Don’t worry yourself. This is Axiom, or Ax, and he’s been a good friend to me. He’s ... not like those other ones, no, no, not at all.’

‘She’s right, I’m not,’ said Axiom, the face reforming into different shapes as though he was experimenting. A body began to appear from the dark mist, but it lacked detail. It was more a hint of one. There was also a sense of vast dark wings, but they were faint, Lorn thought she might be imagining them.

‘Drat it!’ said Axiom glancing down at his new shape. ‘I just can’t get the hang of this. You’d think it would be easier than the face, right? Those two never did give me their secret.’

‘What do you want from me?’ Lorn demanded, shrinking away. She wasn’t certain, but she thought a shraed could still hurt her, no matter that she was a ghost.

‘I’ve been sent here to do what I can for you,’ said Axiom.

‘Sent by who?’

‘Um, well, I suppose you could say they are mutual friends of ours. Not that they’d put it that way, but um ...’

It took Lorn a moment, as her memories were a bit difficult to grasp hold of. Then it came to her. ‘Manic and Mania! Do you mean those two nitwits!’

Shakti’s jaw fell open, suggesting she knew of them, but it was Axiom’s reaction that surprised her. His new shape lost all cohesion as he returned to a gaseous form, which began to ripple as though a rock had been tossed into water. Was that laughter?

Those two! Of course, they’d be involved. They couldn’t keep their sticky fingers out of anything! Even when dead, she couldn’t escape their meddling. Another part of her felt annoyed she should remember their names first. The other face, the one that made her feel warm inside, remained anonymous.

Shakti smiled and Axiom reformed his human-like face. A silent communication seemed to pass between the dead witch and the shraed.

‘You’re right,’ Axiom said to the old woman. ‘She is exactly what we need. Besides, she’s also tenacious, and a little rude. I think I like her.’

Lorn stared from one to the other, feeling confused. ‘Tell me what is happening, right now, or maybe I’ll go ask one of those ... Fractured.’

Axiom’s face vanished and his gaseous form shivered again. ‘Oh, goodness me, no! You don’t want to do that. You don’t understand what they are, or what this place is. You don’t know anything.’

‘Then tell me!’

Axiom seemed to huff with annoyance. ‘Well, her rudeness does seem to grate a little, it must be said.’

‘I’m not rude!’ Lorn snapped. Then for the first time, alive or dead, she admitted the truth, though in a much quieter voice. ‘I’m scared.’

Shakti sighed. ‘The city of Tharaxis is under siege. It might not seem like it right this minute, but it is. Something worse than shraeds is here, oh, yes, yes.

‘Oh, well, thanks for the mention,’ the shraed muttered. ‘Words hurt you know.’

‘Souleaters feed on us,’ Shakti added, ignoring her insubstantial companion. ‘Do you see now? Every soul in this city is dinner.’

‘I’m leaving.’ Lorn leapt to her feet, ready to fight them off if she had to. Shakti she could handle, but she wasn’t certain about Axiom. There had to be somewhere else on this world, somewhere she could find peace. A place where she wouldn’t get eaten.

‘Foolish child,’ the old woman snapped, as the shraed vanished. ‘There is nowhere to flee to. Besides, you are needed.’

Lorn made it halfway to the door when the shraed manifested in front of her, forcing her to halt. He reached out and tentatively touched her. He seemed to reach inside of her, and as quickly, withdrew. Lorn felt a slight chill, along with the faint memory of something like this happening before. His face became hers; it was like looking into a deformed black mirror.

‘You think death is the end, Lorn Larthuz?’ the shraed asked. ‘Trust me, it is not, at least for your kind. There is a darker fate than death awaiting you. The souleaters consume you, yes, but something of you remains within them afterwards. Something of you becomes them.’

‘They’re feeding on the population of Tharaxis,’ Shakti said from behind. ‘And we need to stop them!’

‘Those Fractured Ones are,’ Axiom continued, ‘um, let’s just say they’re unfinished meals. They’re almost as dangerous to us, though not as fast and not clever. Still, if you go out there, you will find yourself hunted. Tharaxis has much darker corners.’

Lorn began to step back from the doorway. ‘Well, why didn’t you just say all that to begin with? You know, start with the important bits, like, don’t go outside or you might get eaten.’

The shraed dissolved, and Shakti who had risen to her feet, offered her hand. Lorn allowed her to guide her back to the soul lights. ‘My dear, you must remain here for now, and only venture out when it is time.’

Lorn stared at her. ‘You were out there. You went to meet me.’

‘Yes, yes, and it was necessary. A risk I had to take.’

‘Why?’

Axiom materialised again, this time with more of a body to match the face, though it was naked, if not properly formed. To her horror, Lorn realised it was her body, or well, what her body had looked like when she’d been alive. It was as though he was practicing, and her arrival had given him something new to practice with.

‘Why, my dear?’ said the old healer. ‘You see it is really very simple; you are going to save us all, yes, yes. The entire city of Tharaxis, or rather, all the souls within it.’

‘Oh, I see. And how am I supposed to do that?’

‘You’re going to steal the List of Souls.’

‘And,’ the shraed with her face added, ‘We’re going to help you do it.’