The Curse of the Winged Scorpion
Don't be sorry, be better

Fantelreleased her trapped breath in a slow sigh as Tomah’s body hit the floor.Carefully she rose to her feet. The spirit scorpion pulled back its barbedtail, ghostly wings drawing in. Insidethe scorpion’s shell Rashari fussed over Smith’s remains, laying them out onthe floor where he knelt, running his fingers repeatedly over the two pieces ofthe shell. He poured half of the metal spheres into each, pushing the twopieces closer together. Then he held his left hand, palm down, over theremains. A dark purple light surrounded his palm, emanating from the piece ofstone embedded in his flesh.

“Smith,”He said the name as if it was an invocation.

Theball bearings started to jump inside the shell halves, bouncing around likepebbles in a panhandlers sieve. The pinkish-mauve glow rising from Smith’sremains intensified. A soft hum rose from the remains. Fantel moved closer. Sofar Rashari had failed to acknowledge her at all. Yet as she stepped forward thescorpion turned to look at her. Fantel froze. The human skull mounted on top ofthe scorpion’s body fixed her with dark, fiery eyes, but she felt no malice inits regard. She and the spirit regarded each other silently for severalheartbeats. Her magic was gone. She could no longer make an invocation andsummon a spirit from the anima in the air, but she could still sense thepresence of greater magic when it was right in front of her. She could sensenothing from the scorpion. It was as if it was merely an illusion. The scorpiondissolved. Its form collapsed in on itself in a silent implosion of brilliantindigo sparks. In the blink of an eye the fearsome spirit had vanished.

“C’monSmith; I know you’re still here.”

Fantelsank down onto the floor opposite Rashari, the pieces of Smith between them.There was magic here, she could sense it clinging to Smith’s remains. The samestrange, potent magic she had felt coming from Vedeca after the crash. It wasdifferent from the hungry, clawing force unleashed with the scorpion. This wasnot a negative force; it didn’t seek to steal life. Instead Fantel could feelthe pulsing strength of anima in the air, radiating from Smith’s remains, as ifSmith’s spirit still clung to the broken pieces of his body. Fantel knew thenwhat Rashari was doing, and why he had unleashed the void inside him. He hadn’tbeen lashing out mindlessly. He’d acted deliberately to steal the soul energyfrom the Dha-hali so he could give it to Smith.

Powerbreathed through the room, thick and heavy. It reminded Fantel of Aashorum, andthe heavy echo of Mother Aldlis breathing through the jungle. This power wasmore focused than the raw, omnipresent essence of the Mother. It was not asgreat and vast as the flow of anima rising from the heart of Aldlis. This powerwas more personal. It was meant for a single purpose; to knit the tatteredpieces of Smith’s spirit back together.

Fantelcurled her hands into fists, pressing them tightly against her thighs. Themagic in the air called to her, alien but achingly familiar all the same. Ititched at her brain and whispered to the hollow place inside her, the woundwhere her magic used to be. There was a time, a seeming life time ago, when shepossessed the power to coax a somnambulant seed to break early into life, deepin its soil bed, or make summer blooms hide their faces from the midday sun.Once she had commanded the rock and the soil and all the creatures that dweltupon it. Now she could only watch, impotent, as Rashari worked his strangemagic in front of her.

Thespheres started to rise into the air, caught in the tendrils of glowing vapouremerging from Smith’s shell. The vapour began to coalesce into a roughlyspherical shape, still glowing with cheerful mauve light. The little spheresswirled within, whizzing around inside the glowing ball of light. HastilyRashari snatched up the two halves of the broken shell and held them up aroundthe spinning mass. Smith’s spirit seeped inside, the spheres pinging off themetal as they flew around like a dozen errant moons in a whiplash orbit.Rashari pressed the two halves of Smith’s shell together, but couldn’t sealSmith’s body closed. Armen had warped the metal when he’d twisted the piecesapart, and the seam of Smith’s eyebeam now opened too wide and ran crooked.Wisps of Smith’s spirit seeped free, dissipating in the air. Rashari’s handsshook as he held the pieces in place.

“Blllllll….”Smith burbled, a tiny ghost of sound, more felt than heard. Rashari sagged,holding Smith awkwardly in his lap, trying vainly to stop more of Smith’s spiritfrom escaping. He’d pulled Smith’s vital essence together again but he could dono more. Without a body to contain it Smith’s life energy would begin todissipate in the atmosphere. Whatever Smith was now, his spirit was not strongenough to survive without a body to anchor it. Fantel rose swiftly to her feetand stepped over to Tomah’s body. She used her claws to slice long strips fromhis silk tunic and tugged loose the wide swathe of vivid red cloth he wore likea belt around his middle.

“Here,”tying a couple of the strips of tunic together Fantel wound them around Smith’sshell, knotting the ends together in a makeshift bandage. Together she andRashari criss-crossed strips of dark blue silk around and around Smith beforetying them off as tightly as they could, binding the broken pieces of his shellin place. It was far from a perfect solution, wisps of energy continued to seepfree of the crooked seam of Smith’s eyebeam, but it was the best they couldmanage. After they were done Fantel laid out the silk sash on the floor andRashari carefully wrapped Smith inside, drawing the silk around his shell andtying off the neck of the make-shift sack with the last strip of tunic.

“Bl– oop.” Smith glowed like a beacon through the vibrant silk. He was a very farcry from inconspicuous.

“Weneed to get out of here,” Rashari said, finally deigning to speak to her, evenif he wouldn’t look up and meet her eyes. He threw the sack over his rightshoulder and rose to his feet, movements awkward and furtive. Fantel noted theway his gaze skittered over the bodies of the Dha-hali and then swiftly awayagain, moving in a fast, anxious dance over every inch of the loft.

“Bl-up.”Smith burbled mournfully, the sounds muffled by the silk and his weakenedstate. A pained look crossed Rashari’s features with every miserable burbleSmith made.

Fantelwatched them both, still kneeling on the floor. The sliver of stone she hadfound in her pocket remained palmed in one hand, now slick with her blood andsweat. She was very well aware that without it she would most likely be dead.Rashari would have killed her, not deliberately, not wilfully, but withcomplete negligence. He was dangerous. He said as much, but now she had seenthe proof with her own eyes. She had yet to decide if this changed anything.She opened her hand, holding out the piece of milky white stone so he could seeit.

“Whatis this?”

Rashariflinched, gaze jerking toward her before he could stop himself. A muscle in hisclenched jaw ticked. Fantel could see the tension in his body. He wanted torun. His eyes widened when he saw the piece of stone.

“Wheredid you get that?”

“Thecompartment inside Vedeca’s hold,” Fantel said twitching her shoulder in aslight shrug. “It was in a wooden box next to the satchel you asked me toretrieve.” It had been an odd and uncharacteristic impulse that had led her topocket the box at the time. An impulse Fantel could only ascribe to serendipitynow.

“Youstole it?” Rashari looked aggrieved for all of a half-second before the lookFantel gave him killed any further protest he might have thought to make. Hewinced, almost shying away, and clutched the neck of Smith’s sack in awhite-knuckled grip. He stared determinedly at an innocuous spot on the floor,stubbornly refusing to meet her eyes. “It’s my spare.” He mumbled. “It’s apiece of Smith’s old scion stone. The other piece in is in my hand.” When hewaved his left hand toward her, the fragment in his palm was now the exact sameshade of white as the piece in her hand. “It’s supposed to be insurance. Incase I lose this piece.”

Insuranceindeed, Fantel thought dryly. “It saved my life.” She closed her hand aroundthe pebble sized stone. She was, to say the least, reluctant to hand it back tohim. She stood up and waited until Rashari met her eyes.

Theystared at each other for a long, long moment. Fantel thought about all thetrouble he had dragged her into so far, and the number of times her life hadbeen in jeopardy as a direct result of his actions. She thought about the soulvoid inside him and the spectral scorpion. She thought about her life as awayfarer; the solitude of the wild roads, the silence of the wilderness. Theemptiness of a life spent unnoticed. She had said that she would follow him,only hours before. She had promised him her trust. Now that she had seen andfelt what he could do - what he was willing to do - when he lost his temper andgave up his control she wondered if she could trust that he wouldn’t do itagain. She could walk away. He would notstop her. She could see that clearly. He was braced for just that. She couldwalk away, and if more Dha-hali came for her, or if Imperial scientists camefor her, she could tell them what she knew, barter Rashari’s secrets for herlife, and return to her simple, empty existence. Or she could leave quietly,keeping his secrets, but escaping his fate. She didn’t owe him anything and shewas beginning to suspect he was far more dangerous than any of the forcespursuing him. She could walk away. It was good to know, even as she knew thatshe would do no such thing.

“Iam keeping this.” She said placing the piece of broken stone back into its boxand tucking the box back into her pocket. “For insurance; though I trust I willnot need it again.”

Rashari’seyes widened, the tense stillness shattering across his face, breaking into anexpression of shock – and near painful relief. “Oh,” he breathed out a gustysigh. There was something very naked in his eyes. It made her uncomfortable.She turned and walked past him toward the hatch leading down and out of theloft. His gaze followed her, the question he would not ask –perhaps in fear ofthe answer – ringing loud in the silence.

Fantelstopped and made herself turn back to face him. “It was an accident.” She saidvoice soft. “I…know something of what it is like, to have power and to misuseit.” She stopped, battling with herself. This was a confession she did not wantto make, yet for some reason she wanted him to know that she did understand.She understood anger, and power, and the harm that could be done when one hadboth in ready supply, and too little control.

“I,”He licked his dry lips. “I am sorry. I…”

Shenodded sharply, cutting him off. “Don’t be sorry; be better. Don’t make thesame mistake again.” It was the only advice she could give him. The onlywarning she would offer. Not that it would be so simple for him. It hadn’t beenfor her.

Fantelrealised something was wrong as soon as they left the building and foundthemselves back in the commercial district. People still thronged the streetbut now they congregated at the pavement edge, in front of the dark façades ofthe once buzzing shops and eateries. There were a number of uniformed guardsmenherding the late night revellers down the street, away from them. Fantel lookedto her right and her left up and down the long avenue. The whole of their sideof the street was dark, every light shattered. The air was thick and greasywith the reek of death energy. Across the street an Aramantine guardsman turnedaround and stared at them. There were a great many people staring at them.Fantel glanced back at the building at their back. Every window on every floorwas shattered and shards of glass lay at their feet an inch deep. Fantel turnedto Rashari.

“Bugger,”He muttered, eloquently. Across the street the guard blew on a whistle andseveral people started pointing and shouting. Rashari met her eyes. “Run.” Hesaid.

Theyran, feet skidding on the quilt of glass. More people shouted at their backs,and a chorus of shrill whistles hounded their retreat. Fantel soon outpacedRashari, her legs were longer and she wasn’t carrying both Smith and theirsatchel full of supplies. The dark side of the street had been cleared ofpeople. Fantel caught a glimpse of a cordon stretched out across the other sideof the avenue and a number of Aramantine guards keeping the pedestrians back.This was to their advantage as the only objects they had to dodge wereinanimate and less likely to deliberately block their path. She glanced backover her shoulder as Rashari jumped over an overturned café table threeguardsmen in hot pursuit.

Theyhit an alley, cutting away from the main avenue, Fantel in the lead. She had nodestination in mind other than escape from pursuit. The alley was narrow, andgrew narrower still as the walls of the old buildings on either side bowledoutward like the pot-bellies of stout old men. A carpet of refuge covered theground. The crack of breaking glass rang out loud as a bullet as her foot camedown on a bottle hidden under a blanket of wet paper. She stumbled and Rasharialmost barrelled into the back of her. Behind them the narrowness of thepassageway forced their pursuers to chase in single file. What lay aheadremained unknown; escape or a waiting battalion of guardsmen, there was no wayto tell.

Fantellooked up, catching sight of an old balcony poking out of the side of thebuilding to the left. The ironwork was rusted and the balcony looked palpablyunsafe, but it offered access to the over-hanging lip of the pitched roof ofthe building and a way of losing their pursuers. Fantel grabbed Rashari’sshoulder, jerking her chin toward the balcony. He needed no further prompting.Scooping up an unbroken wine bottle from the ground Rashari hurled it at thehead of the lead guardsman, who ducked, then slipped on the filth and landed inan undignified sprawl across the ground. The bottle sailed clean over the fallenguard, shattering at the feet of the second pursuer, who stopped, throwing upan arm to protect his face from flying glass. The third guardsman ploughed intohim from behind.

Thedistraction bought them scant seconds, but it was enough. Fantel dropped andcupped her hands together into a cradle so she could boost Rashari up enoughfor him to catch hold of the balcony railing and haul himself up and over,swinging Smith’s sack onto the balcony ahead of him. Then he leaned over thegroaning rail to help haul Fantel up, not that she needed much help. She hadjust swung her last leg over the railing when the first of the guards jumped upwith the aid of his compatriot and made a grab for the balcony. Fantel kickedhim in the shoulder, not quite willing to kick the man in the face for simplydoing his job. He fell heavily onto his compatriot amid considerable cursing.

Rashariwas testing the edge of the gutter and the lay of the roof tiles for purchase.He glanced back and nodded sharply, before grabbing hold of the old metalgutter and wriggling up onto the sloped roof. He scrambled over the dull greentiles toward the apex as Fantel finished heaving herself up onto the roof.

Whatfollowed next was an undignified scramble over rooftops. They jumped from one roofto another and Fantel was thankful that the buildings were built so closetogether in this part of the city. They hunkered low, skulking over the roofs andtrying to blend into the shadows cast by the sky-reaching towers in thedistance. Below they could hear the guards swarming. Shrill whistles and shoutsrose up from the streets. Rashari was in the lead now, moving with a purposethat suggested he had a destination in mind. Fantel followed, looking back overher shoulder repeatedly, checking to make sure none of the guards had followedthem up onto the roofs. The guards seemed content to wait them out. Sooner orlater they would have to come back down. The fourth wall rose up ahead, animpassable blockade drawn like a thick black line across the horizon.