Barb Hendee - Sister of the Dead

W elstiel and Chane stepped into the forest and found themselves surrounded by the ghosts of the dead. Welstiel had expected this as they entered Ubad's area of influence. Neither of them could be injured by these spirits, as they were both already dead, but he had neglected to inform Chane.

A transparent man dressed in rags flew through Chane's body. Chane thrashed wildly, backing into a moss curtain and drenching himself.

"Ignore them," Welstiel said. "They cannot harm us. " Chane turned on him. "Wynn passed through here!" His endless distress over the sage was beginning to unsettle Welstiel. "I doubt anyone with Magiere was harmed. Ubad would not do anything to dissuade her from reaching him. " Chane drew his sword and slashed aside the wet strands of moss.

More ghosts slipped between the trees as they pressed on. A few lashed out at Welstiel, but he ignored them. The chill sensation of their touch was unpleasant, but no more than that. Still, Chane flinched away from them as he cut a path, leading the way. Soon his sleeves and cloak were soaked through.

"You're veering west," Welstiel said. "Turn more north."

"Do you know where we're going?"

"Yes."

The cottage of piled stone attached to the massive granite outcrop appeared before them. Welstiel stopped amid the trees and called Chane back to wait with him. Magiere would have reached the cavern by now and faced the old necromancer.

Welstiel wondered what half-truths and ploys Ubad would use to put her off guard. The plan for Magelia's special child had never been completely revealed to him. He would have spared Magiere this, but only to keep her focus clear. Whatever Ubad planned would lead Magiere down another path.

She would refuse Ubad, just as she had refused him.

"Enough waiting," Chane said, the line of his mouth tight. "They could be trapped in there."

"Do you suggest we walk in with a pleasant greeting?"

Chane did not answer.

Shouts came from inside the cottage, and its door burst open.

Ghosts whirled out of the forest in a maelstrom that obscured Welstiel's view of the cottage. He heard running and the slashing of brush and moss. Streams of spirit mist in the outside air went wild and rushed toward the sound.

Chane lunged forward, but Welstiel grabbed his cloak and pulled him back. He gripped bis companion's shoulder tightly. Ubad depended on spirits as his eyes and ears. Such arcane emissaries would not find Welstiel or anyone he touched while wearing his ring of "nothing."

When the air cleared, the cottage door stood open. Far to his left Welstiel heard the thrashing of brush and spotted the sage and the half-blood scurrying into the forest. Two more figures appeared in the doorway and headed into the forest.

Welstiel sensed no tingle of life within them as he reached out with his awareness.

Chane glanced at Welstiel as the decayed men passed into the trees.

"Reanimated dead," Welstiel whispered. "Ubad's skills have become more diverse."

Another pair appeared in the cottage doorway. One wore a leather mask, and the other's skin was stretched tight and gray across the bones of his face.

"Ubad?" Chane whispered, gesturing to the first man.

Welstiel barely nodded. He shivered off trepidation, suppressing the terrible memories conjured by the sight of his family's old retainer.

Between the necromancer's leather mask and cowled robes, it was difficult to imagine what he might look like underneath, but his withered jaw and hands were as Welstiel remembered. As ancient as he had always seemed, he had aged no further in twenty-five years. He carried a long iron staff that appeared far too heavy for his stature.

Ubad spoke to his companion, and Welstiel's senses expanded sharply to catch the man's words.

"I will lure the dhampir off," he said, "and see to it that she takes her place with us. Find the half-elf and kill him. The sage, as well, though it is doubtful she would last a night in the forest."

"And that bothersome dog?" asked his companion, holding his shoulder as if it pained him.

"He will stay with the dhampir… and I will deal with that misbegotten mongrel sent by our patron's oppressors. His meddling ends tonight."

They both stepped into the trees and then separated.

Chane made to go after the undead sorcerer, sword gripped tight in hand. Welstiel stopped him, but kept his voice low.

"The dhampir and the majay-hi have not come out yet. Stay close where I can hide you from their awareness."

"The dead are wandering every corner of this forest," Chane answered. "That dog is not going to pick me out. I must go!"

Welstiel realized Chane was not going to help him protect Magiere. Perhaps that was best. If Ubad's undead sorcerer overcame Leesil, he would return to his master's side. And that would make Welstiel's own task far more difficult. Chane's only thoughts were of his little sage now in Leesil's company.

"Go," he said, "but do not let her see you."

Chane was off into the trees and out of sight.

Welstiel looked back at the stone house just as Magiere and Chap rushed out. Her eyes were completely black. When her lips parted in a deep breath, he saw her elongated canines. His confidence in her wavered. Had he underestimated Ubad's poisoned whispers? Would Magiere give in and follow the necromancer's path?

She was in a fully enraged dhampir state, yet she paused in the open space before the house. She waited calmly as the majay-hi sniffed the earth. It turned, barking wildly at her, and ran a few paces in the direction Ubad had taken then paused to look back. Magiere broke into a run and followed the animal into the forest.

Welstiel followed, as well.

Chap slowed to let Magiere to get ahead of him. He trailed her as she crashed through the dense forest after the child ghost. His concern should have been for her alone, but Leesil and Wynn were at the mercy of Ubad's minions. Magiere was almost beyond his sight, and he paused in a hollow between the moss-laden trees and closed his crystalline eyes.

Hear me, my kin. Come to me.

He reached out, again and again, sensing for an answering touch of spirit in the wilderness. A presence grew around him, and he opened his eyes.

Enormous oaks and firs crackled and rustled as their limbs reached outward into each other's embrace. He heard something akin to whispers mat did not come from Ubad's spirits. Tiny movements made leaves and strands of moss quiver, and he felt the many lives of the wild surrounding him, turning their awareness inward upon him within the half-circle of sentinel trees.

A yellow speckled lizard crawled slowly across a spruce's wide trunk, its tail twice the length of its body. The tail dragged behind the reptile in a lengthy curve like a mouth in the bark below the glittering eyes of other creatures in this massive tree's shadowed upper reaches.

Why do you call us… now that you have abandoned us in our need to go your own way?

Chap bowed his head as the lizard's tail slipped out of sight behind the trunk.

I stand by her. I stand by my choice. And nothing you hope for has been lost as yet. But the others…

A flurry of skittering filled his ears like tiny claws and paws racing through the forest canopy in agitation.

Chap padded back and form impatiently. And the half-elf? He still serves his purpose, to keep Magiere from the reach of the enemy… and perhaps more.

A telling silence was the only reply, and he pressed further.

Let life bar death in this place. Hold off the restless dead. Hold them for even a short while. Keep the sage and the an-maglahk safe.

Whispers and rustles in the leaves grew louder.

Chap knew his kin hated this forest of death. He rumbled in anger at their indecision.