Eight 5.32: The New Plan Is to Die

Here’s the thing: I knew that Yuki and Fala had been secretly discussing ways to extend my life, including the Spirit King’s techniques for reattaching his spirit to his dead body. My lifespan was supposed to be three-hundred-plus years, but they both knew what it was like to be ageless and were looking ahead on my behalf. I’d found their thoughtfulness touching, and then had proceeded to not say anything or even think about it further. 

The issue was that, while Yuki considered themselves the center of the network and it was mostly their hardware across which messages flowed, my biology was also a critical component. My secrets were likely exposed to them in the same way, but the two of us respected each other’s privacy, politely ignoring what should be ignored. 

It was for a similar reason that I knew Yuki had cracked the code to unravel the mysteries of Old Baxteiyel. The details were hazy, and I kept it that way. If they considered the information dangerous enough to isolate it within themselves, then I could respect that. 

I would’ve rather not known to begin with.  

Fala’s brow furrowed, as her shock turned into careful, deliberate consideration. 

‘You can’t seriously even be—’ Yuki started. 

I cut them. Hush. Let her think. 

‘But this idea—' 

Is just that for now. If it’s unworkable, I’ll let it go, but we have to examine it first to see if it’s feasible. 

Fala’s hands gripped mine as she questioned herself, asking the limits of what she was and wasn’t capable of risking. 

In the room’s corner, the Deer God unsteadily got to his feet. He’d barely gotten into his body before Yuki went crying to him. 

The earth spirit gasped, then there was silence. I didn’t want to look away from my beloved’s face, but I felt the shock radiating from him, followed by his own steady consideration of the idea. 

‘Are we the only sane ones here?’ Yuki complained. 

“Possibly,” I said, the edges of my lips turning upward. 

Their qi hardened, a scowl. ‘You really mean to try this?’ 

I nodded. “If the family thinks it can work, we should run a test. If the test is successful, then I don’t see why not.” 

‘Why not? Why not? The whole point was… Fala and I we… We don’t want you to die!’ 

“I know,” I replied, sending them my love. “And I’m grateful for the effort spent looking for… alternatives. At the same time, we have to make sure Baxta doesn’t return, that the sorcerers don’t win, and that darklight isn’t abused.” My hands tightened around my beloved’s, and I leaned in to touch my forehead against hers. “If we had a way to contact Heleitia, she and Asiik would make quick work of this place, but we don’t, so it’s up to us.” 

‘They’d turn the fortress upside down,’ Yuki said, loosening up enough to chuckle. 

“At the minimum,” I said. 

‘We… uh…’ Yuki hesitated as a guilty defensiveness arose within them. 

I pulled us into a private corner of the network and thought, It’s okay, I know. 

‘You do?’ 

It’s my brain you’re using to increase your computational capacity, I explained. Sometimes the process leaves thoughts behind after you’re done. It wasn’t hard to assemble enough of them together to figure things out. 

‘You’re not mad?’ they asked. 

No! Of course not. The bigger the network grows, the more secrets you’ll have to keep. We’ll find a way to keep them from spilling over, especially if the information’s dangerous. The last thing we want is for that stuff to be more easily uploaded to the World Spirit. 

‘Don’t worry, the texts are coded in our memories, split into chunks spread among our extensions.’ 

And is there anything in them that might help reattach my soul to my body? I asked. 

‘We’ll check,’ Yuki said, and then their qi turned cagey. A shield rose up between us. The construct was patchy at first, but filled out as they worked at it. 

This was new, their relentless pursuit of progress already driving them to find a solution to the problem of my eavesdropping. 

Good, I thought, but they didn’t seem to hear me. 

This new boundary saddened me, but it was a healthy development in our relationship. It would be good for them and good for me, too. 

“You mean to use the spirit king’s techniques,” Fala said, rousing from her thoughts. 

I nodded and said, “I’ve been having trouble on occasion reuniting my spirit and body. That was what gave me the idea…” 

The look on Fala’s face stopped me. It appeared that this particular secret hadn’t, in fact, already been exposed. What followed was a scolding that also included her grabbing me by the shoulders and shaking me back and forth. 

There’s no need to go into details. The result was that I felt reprimanded, and I promised to let her know next time when anything concerning happened. 

Then, once Fala calmed down, she provided the theoretical underpinnings of the spirit king’s techniques. Neither Yuki or she had been able to see his spirit or the way it had interacted with his body, but they were both exceptionally skilled at understanding a person’s energetic structures and how a spirit might inhabit them. 

Frankly, the progress they’d made using simply that foundational knowledge was damn impressive. Then again, she’d once possessed the Ritualist talent. It’d been lost in the process of becoming beloved, but the information she’d gained through it was still there. Just the bonuses were gone. There was also her water tablet, which let her examine both physical and energetic structures in detail. 

At the other end of the equation, Yuki had a 25 Intelligence. Combined with their Otherworldly Sapience and Magical Technician talents, they were virtually a machine at dissecting and understanding unusual phenomena. 

The two of them working together? Amazing. 

Fala then proceeded to use models made of water and stone to demonstrate the two’s theories for how the process might work, and my own observations helped to confirm a couple of things. 

That was when Yuki emerged from their isolation. ‘We think we have an idea, but it’ll only work if we can be absolutely sure that Ollie/Eight’s soul will remain anchored to the world.’ 

“I can will myself to stick around,” I said. 

Their qi shook in disagreement. ‘That’s not enough. The act has to be coercive—your soul forced to linger near the container intended for it.’ 

Fala quirked her head, confused. “Where does this idea come from?” 

But Yuki remained silent in response, unwilling to lie. 

Her expression changed as she came to realize the source. Understanding turning into wariness. Wariness into acceptance. “The fewer who know the better,” she whispered.  

The Deer God had quietly listened throughout, and now he nodded in agreement. 

None of the people here were dummies. They got it without having to be told. 

Fala took a breath and said, “So, let’s assume that coercion is integral to the rituals involved. What else do we need?” 

“A way to preserve both spirit and body so that they remain intact,” I said. 

“The pocket will handle the body,” Fala said. 

‘And the time spent dead is short; the spirit won’t degrade,’ the Deer God added. ‘Especially if I support it.’ 

“You’re willing to do that?” I asked, eyeing him. “This isn’t sorcery?” 

‘It’s not,’ he replied plainly. ‘The difference is partly our intentions and partly the alignment of our purpose with the universe’s own fundamental purpose.’ 

He’s talking about the framework, I thought. 

‘Are we serving corruption or are we leading people to liberation?’ the Deer God added. ‘That is a simpler guidepost. Another is: are we tainting souls or directing them to how they can refine themselves?’ 

“Because those align with the universe’s purpose,” I said. 

His head dipped in a nod. ‘My antlers can pin your spirit in place. This should fill the requirement for a coercive element, and this action directs us toward a more stable… ecology of spirits and mortals, magic and mundane. Thus, it is not sorcery.’  

“So we’re doing this?” I asked. 

“We’re testing this,” Fala corrected. 

‘Let’s start by having Ollie/Eight leave his body and then come back to it,’ Yuki said. ‘We’ll all watch in our own ways to see if there’s anything we can do to support or enhance the process.’ 

‘Once the cord between body and spirit is severed, all that will be left is familiarity,’ the Deer God said. ‘That won’t be enough to merge the two again unless the connection is reestablished.’ 

“How’s that worked in the past?” I asked. “I’ve heard stories of people waking up minutes or hours after they’d been pronounced dead.” 

‘Luck, fate, will, intervention,’ the Deer God said. ‘The reasons are varied and complex.’ 

‘We’d rather not count on luck or fate,’ Yuki said. 

“Then it’ll have to be will,” I replied. 

‘And intervention,’ the Deer God added. ‘I will act as the intermediary between your soul and body, holding the connection between you until it can be reestablished.’ 

“You can do that?” Fala asked, her eyes brightening. “Is that a skill you can… teach?” 

The Deer God glanced at her. ‘What is your purpose?’ 

She blinked, and it was like the words were pulled out of her: “To guard the balance between silver and dark; to ensure the world’s refinement, as well as the beings who inhabit it.” 

‘And will your powers selfishly?’ The Deer God asked. ‘Including those that I might teach you?’ 

“Yes,” she immediately replied. “But not at the expense of others. I kill for a reason—part of the world’s cycles and in keeping with its balance.” 

The Deer God huffed. ‘In the past, I would’ve marked you as one of my own, but I am an earth god no more. Nor are we teacher and disciple; we are both students of Diaksha.’ 

“We could just talk,” Fala proposed. “Later, when things are less urgent.” 

He nodded, his own eyes shining with amusement. ‘Then let us do that.’ 

“So, we are doing this,” I said. 

“A test,” Fala reminded me. 

I grinned and gave her a peck on the cheek, then hopped over to the bed to make myself comfortable. I’d leave and rejoin my body as many times as necessary to ensure this new plan’s success. 

### 

I’ll say one thing—training to be trapped by the Deer God’s antlers was deeply uncomfortable; the full force of his will bore down on me. We didn’t know how much coercion was required for the ritual, so he didn’t hold back. 

The mad part was that the ritual required me to resist. Apparently, Baxta expected the captured souls to fight him, and the energy of their panic, fear, and struggle helped to feed the magic. 

Over the next four days, nearly every minute—both waking and asleep—was spent either studying the spirit-body connection or pushing the plan forward. The Deer God steadily ate the magical protections around the shaft supporting the mountain above the fortress. 

Fala carefully tested it, and she could now manipulate the stone, snapping it whenever she wanted. She’d have to ride through the resulting landslide, but her confidence was high that she’d be able to move through the flowing stone like swimming in the sea. 

We weren’t the only ones ahead of schedule. With four days until the arrival of Baxta’s body, five days until the empress arrived, the fortress was spotless. Every surface shone with polish, and the soldiers’ movements were crisp and energetic. The pride rolled off of them in waves. 

Not Sotwansein or Kolwei, of course. Those two stewed in worry, their anxiety becoming evident only when they could speak privately. 

That evening, about an hour after dark, the two of them were out inspecting how the compound looked under the moonlight. They wanted to be sure that the view was pleasing if and when the empress chose to stroll among the buildings or atop the outer wall. 

Yes, that was apparently a thing she was known for. A person was considered blessed if they happened to glimpse her on one of these excursions. They would also likely become intensely devoted for the rest of their lives, even if they never interacted with her again in any way. 

Anyway, my spirit was up in the branches of my favorite tree, and the guards on duty were especially vigilant with the commander nearby, so they easily spotted a night crow swooping down for an attack. The bird was about the size of a city bus, with enormous wings edged in silver. 

I was out of body at the time, keeping tabs on the fortress’s leadership while the rest of the brain trust was back in the stronghold discussing the results of our most recent experiments. So, I couldn’t see the crow’s talents, but from the way heads came free from the soldiers’ bodies, those wing tips were sharp. 

Blood sprayed against the walls and pooled on the floor. All the work to clean them spotless had been spoiled in an instant. 

Sotwansein must’ve been enraged, because a stone roof peeled free of its building and slapped the crow down. A pair of soldiers had been under him, and they were squashed flat. I knew they were dead, because I saw their spirits sucked into the fortress. 

The alarm sounded, and the Deer God came out to check on me and see what was happening. He left shortly thereafter to report on the situation to Fala and Yuki. 

Stunned momentarily, the night crow didn’t resist as Sotwansein bent a stone collar around her neck and stone manacles around her wings. A whole building had disappeared to provide the material for them. The people and furnishings inside had simply dropped to the ground as the stone flowed in response to his Earth-Touch. They screamed in confusion and ran for safety. 

In the meantime, the night crow recovered her senses. She didn’t seem to be able to do anything about the collar and manacles, but any new stone thrown at her was cut apart as if by invisible claws. More importantly, the material no longer responded to Sotwansein’s control. It lay on the ground inert. 

Then the night crow cawed, and about a quarter of the soldiers fell unconscious. I even felt my spirit shake in response. 

Would the commander call out the silvered teams to deal with her? If so, then we should consider pulling the trigger to our plan early. My mind raced as I weighed the pros and cons, and I began edging toward the stronghold. 

Then I saw Kolwei walk into the body of the night crow. Her caw turned into squawk, and a couple of beats later, he walked back out carrying her heart. The blood and gore that covered him then streamed away, so that he was pristine. 

My jaw dropped. Not literally as it was still attached to my body, but I really was stunned. This was the first time seeing him in action, and his powers were no joke. It had to be some kind of Body-Touched, Flesh-Touched, or something like that. 

The only good news was that he’d seemed to require physical contact for his ability to activate—at least on the night crow. Odds were that it scaled depending on the opponent’s level. 

In the distance, I heard more caws. The night crow hadn’t been alone apparently; the rest of her murder was out there harassing something or someone. 

Five minutes later, the rest of the fortress had fully mobilized, and the ballistae in the fortress’s upper levels began to fire at a target out of my view. I flew upward for a better vantage and spotted three night crows wheeling in the air to avoid the bolts. A fourth was pulling up from a dive at a target on the ground. 

I shot toward the fight. The last unscheduled visit to the fortress had resulted in news of Sister Moon’s visit. What would it be this time? 

A heavy draft horse lay in the middle of the road, his belly split open. It looked like his harness rigging had snapped, and he’d made an unsuccessful run for it. Farther down, three more horses just as big were down, and a black-and-gold painted wagon lay overturned, the wheels still turning. 

A handful of Maltran soldiers surrounded it, shooting their bows or casting magics at the night crows. The air buzzed with the sound of their arrows; the night lit with bolts of magical fire, lightning, stone, and a hazy purple glow I didn’t recognize. Where it clipped a night crow, the feathers withered. 

I ignored the fireworks to fly down. The wagon looked to have been built from sturdy oak planks and reinforced with iron fittings. The sideboards were three-feet tall with a leather cover stretched over wooden hoops between them, though that cover was now shredded and the sideboards splintered. 

A wooden box, uncomfortably resembling a coffin, lay on its side. I stuck my head through the lid and came face to face with a dead man. He had a handsome face with high cheek bones and near perfect symmetry. Death’s stillness seemed unnatural on him. He looked like he ought to be smiling and laughing, maybe even singing a song to the delight of all around him. That kind of influence lingered around him. 

The inside of the coffin was engraved with runes. These I recognized; they were for the Preservation spell. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize that this was the body intended for Baxta. The bastards were early. Did that mean Sister Moon was too? 

The question was urgent enough for me to take off down the road. The ghosts and spirits inhabiting the lower reaches of the mountain saw me pass. A few flew up after me, but I’d kept the tine of the Deer God’s antlers with me—the one that had broken off when we’d breached the inner sanctum of the Temple of Wanting in Old Baxteiyel. 

Time was short, and I was vicious, not holding back my strength of will. Chests caved, spines were severed, and holes blown through ghostly limbs and bodies. One by one, these small hungry ghosts were forced out of the world. 

Fortunately, nothing big was nearby. I was able to clear the air around me. A check of the land below told me that the remaining ghosts had gone into hiding. 

Resuming my search, I saw that the road between the Eagle Fortress and Gorwenta was empty of travelers. The town itself was locked up for the night, and the streets were devoid of anyone except patrolling soldiers. It seemed a curfew was in effect.  

The soldiers moved with determination. The areas under their supervision were spotless. 

The ones at the mountain gate frequently glanced toward the center of town. The ones patrolling also turned their heads that way often. My heart sinking, I triangulated the directions of their gazes and landed on the roof of the inn adjacent to Gorwenta’s administrative hall. 

I sank through the floor and found myself inside a candle-lit study. Soldiers stood at the four corners; a young-looking woman, her face pensive, sat on a cushion writing in a journal. 

She was captivating, her every gesture exquisite. Her presence filled the room, and I couldn’t pull my gaze away. Barely, I noticed the figure beside her—another woman, who when Sister Moon finished writing in the one book, handed the empress another one. 

I moved closer and forced myself to look away from the empress’s face to what she was writing, but all I saw was code. In book after book, she read entries from them and then wrote instructions for the people on the other side. 

I knew that because her assistant spoke the names and positions of the people involved, military officers, administrative officials, and even a few prominent family heads. 

I knew the information was valuable so I found an angle where I could watch Sister Moon’s face and still see the text in the books. Somehow, her nose was both strong and delicate. Beauty and depth together. 

With a sigh, Sister Moon put down her quill and rubbed the back of her neck. The motion was ordinary, but she turned it into perfection. “There’s still been no word about the Chain of Compulsion?” 

Her assistant nodded. “The chain eludes us, but our zasha will prevail. She will woo even Honored Baxta to our cause, and the rest of the world will soon follow.” 

Sister Moon propped her chin on her hand, thinking. “Our assets are diminishing at a dangerous rate. Not just the Three Cities but those fools in Lorsa and the troublemakers in Doblec’s Rock are working to undermine our position. Though we are incomplete without the Sun, we must risk claiming our Birthright.” 

“Our zasha be praised,” the assistant said. “Your foresight is unparalleled. We bring the necessary enchantments and ritual materials with us. Once Honored Baxta is reborn, we will bind him to the Birthright, and our zasha’s influence will spread to the four corners. All will fall under your authority.” 

And there, on Sister Moon’s delightful face, I saw the glimmers of her hunger. She didn’t just want Baxta reborn; she wanted to surpass him. Birthright was about more than bringing him back. It was a step in a larger magic, a step toward taking over the world. 

I could feel it—a part of me wanted to give Sister Moon that world. It was the power of her Charm, supported by her path, talents, soul marks, and influence. Thankfully, I had my own experiences and abilities to draw on, including my secondhand memories of Baxta. 

I knew how ugly and cruel he’d been. And Sister Moon wanted to surpass him? I drew away from the beautiful woman, though I lingered to continue eavesdropping. 

Being ahead of schedule was part of the plan to disrupt her enemies. Sotwansein thought she would take refuge at the Eagle Fortress, but she’d only stay for as long as it took to complete the Birthright rituals, then she’d leave again for a location she refused to mention by name. 

The soldiers guarding Sister Moon changed, yet she kept working. Neither she nor her assistant slept until it was about a couple of hours before dawn. She instructed the captain overseeing her security to wake her at first light, and they’d depart for the Eagle Fortress then. 

I pulled away from watching her sleeping face and made myself return to my family’s stronghold. There was important information to share, and we’d have to move up our own timing.