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Even though I breathed through my mouth, the fetid odor lodged in my throat as I waded among the trees. Moss slicked up their sides, the bark sodden. The mud sucked at the waders, making movement difficult. I shivered in the cold water as I neared the spot Ephraim had pointed out.
The shape they described was likely a spirit, though I wasn’t sure which type. Probably water, given the flooding, but why was the water so foul and full of manure and dead things? Even in a thaw, there shouldn’t be so many corpses. The slurry was waist deep on me when I reached the stand of old apple trees. The consistency of it changed, more water than filth here. A spring below the flood, forcing the mud and sediment back, perhaps? A spirit of earth or water, unwilling to manifest and speak again, and me in the middle of its domain.
I weighed the need to know with the fear of communicating directly with a spirit. A few moments later, with the geas prodding me, too late now. I worked one of my gloves off. To make this type of connection, I needed touch. I couldn’t help but tense as I brushed my fingertips against the brown surface.
Rage boiled through my fingers, and into my nervous system, burning violation pierced my chest. A face formed in my mind’s eye, serene and inhuman.
Curiously, the other mind stroked the geas that wrapped me, holding me immobile, then the wide eyes focused on me.
The Compact is broken.
The immensity of the mental voice resounded in my head, almost rattling my teeth. This spirit wasn’t of the spring, it was of the river. Its span of it and the tributaries that fed it covered a huge area, not as great as the Otero, but more than enough to reverberate through my bones. Strong and cold, the current ran through my mind.
“Who are you?” was all I could manage, my brain still vibrating in my skull. While the boy had told me a name, I wanted to be sure it was correct before I used it to speak with the spirit.
Cayagaga. I am violated. Human magic has confined a part of me, made it dance at their will and not mine. The Compact is broken, and blood will pay for my defilement by oath breakers.
Images appeared in my mind, warped by the spirit’s perspective.
A tearing sensation, filmy water flying, the laughter of humans, perceived as the pattern of fluids in their bodies and in their refreshments. Confinement, rocks pressed in tender areas of upwelling water. A river’s spirit, forced to experience the senses of a material being, translating its experience to sensations that hurt and made no sense to it. Gems, clearer to its perception than bodies or faces, gleaming in foreheads. Red, green, yellow.
I took a deep breath, overwhelmed by what the spirit was showing me. It was hard seeing through its eyes, because it didn’t understand everything about the people who had hurt it. But as I separated the images, I began to understand. Then, it hit me. What I was seeing.
Damn that bastard Greene. I knew he was a fool. Butthismuch of one? Enough that he would be the one behind all of this?
The images kept coming, of Greene, and of the wealthy people he wanted to impress. To do so, he paid some fool a pretty penny to bind the spirit. Then, he forced the spirit to do tricks for him and his guests. It was painful for the spirit. Beyond what an idiot like Greene could even understand. But it wasn’t just painful, it was humiliating too.
I experienced it all in a rush of sensations… the pain of what I was being shown was relieved only by grinding my teeth. Tears stung the corners of my eyes as I watched the spirit imprisoned by Greene, being forced to do tricks, being ripped to pieces.
The taste of blood flooded my mouth.
It wasn’t hard to understand why the spirit was so angry.
Whatwasharder to understand is how Greene could have been so short-sighted. The Compact bound all spirits, greater and lesser, in a web of agreements with humanity. It prevented many potential actions by the spirits, such as smashing cities with earthquakes or leveling coastlines with tsunamis. In exchange, the agreement also restricted the binding of spirits for human use both in duration and in what they could be used for. Punishment for breaking the Compact was severe when it came to upper level notice.
Basically, the spirits that surrounded us were powerful and capable of doing a lot of damage to us. We had made an agreement with them. We would leave them alone, and they would leave us alone. Everyone knew that consequences of breaking this agreement could cause more than a little death and destruction. Greene should be happy that this is all the spirit had done so far, because it was angry, and could do a hell of a lot more. He should also be terrified of anyone finding out, since the consequences for his actions would be severe.
It was time to figure out how to fix this.
“What appeasement will you take? You know more mages will come, powerful ones, and they’ll make you subside.”
The intelligence brushed my mind, pausing to consider on the outskirts of my own rage. I felt growing chill amusement, the spirit’s and mine, as it perceived the loophole in the geas I planned to use.
I could not kill randomly or at my desire. However, I wasn’t thinking about killing randomly. The blood of an Administrator who broke the ancient Compact, who denied his people the medication and care to which they were entitled? That I could do.
I will accept your judgment, wildling. Blood and pain to match my own.
The connection snapped. I picked my way out of the bog, the thick mud almost taking my waders off my feet. The odor of sewage and decay wrapped me like a blanket. I felt as if it coated the inside of my mouth.
Shivering, my head ringing and teeth chattering, I crouched next to the heat pack, debating simply sitting on it as the radiant heat and air movement baked the water out of my clothes. It was a single use item, and I’d only courted hypothermia because I had it. The large item was unfolded on the ground, much like a campfire, only with no flames, just the incredible feeling of heat flowing off of it. It was one of many items I was grateful I had.
As I grew warmer, it made it easier to think.
The only way to set things right was for Greene to feel the same level of pain, torment, and humiliation as the spirit had felt. I could do that, but it would be easier if I was directly ordered to do so. Of course, there was no way that Greene would order that I torture he himself, but therewasa loophole. The geas didn’t quiver as I considered how to manipulate Greene into giving the order, my inner Chance murmuring helpful suggestions. Salvaging the Compact, especially with a major spirit offended, trumped other considerations, but it would be sweeter if Greene ordered me to hurt him.
Basically, Greene deserved to be punished for what he had done. Silver would agree that salvaging the Compact with a major spirit was the priority, and I already knew exactly how to do it. I just needed to make certain he gave the order, and that he couldn’t retract the order once he realized what it meant.
As the cold subsided and the heat pack dimmed, I wondered if Silver had sent me precisely because of my violent inclinations, then dismissed the thought. Rule-bound as he was, he’d be horrified at my plan. He tried to keep the peace between the warring factions within the Guild.
