39. STEP SEVEN: SPEND TIME WITH LOVED ONES

Kihrin’s story

The Afterlife

After reuniting with Teraeth (in dreams)

“I don’t know what it says about me that I’ve missed this place,” Teraeth mused as we made our way through dark woods of the lands of the dead.

The ravens screamed at us as we passed by, but then that fit my last memories of this place too. Plenty of broken flashes of terrified running, stumbling, scrambling madly through blood-tossed mud. The trees were still twisted, the wildlife warped, the weather weirdly damp. If there’d ever been a sun here, I’d never seen it. There had to be a sky, though, right? And what was up there? Were there stars? Moons? Janel had always implied the Afterlife mirrored the Living World in weird, dark ways, but just how far did the duplication go? I hadn’t the slightest idea.

No, I didn’t miss the Afterlife at all.

I kept my voice light, anyway, trying not to let my worries show. “I think it says you spent most of this lifetime as a member of a death cult of assassins, but that’s just a guess.”

The last time I’d been here, I’d just been murdered by my brother.1 Come to think of it, the time before that had also been the result of being murdered by my brother, hadn’t it?² It had just been a different brother. And a different life.

“You should know that Janel, Xivan, and Talea are here too. Somewhere.”

I stopped walking. “Tell me it’s because they’re going after Doc and not because something happened.”

Teraeth grabbed at my arm—and passed his hand right through it. He blinked and then, as comprehension set in, looked personally insulted.

I sighed. “I can’t really be here, Teraeth. This is just a projection.”

“Even in the Afterlife?” Teraeth swung an arm out to encompass disgusting mud and damp trees as if he were drawing attention to all the benefits of paradise.

“Yes. Even in the Afterlife. Why would this world be any more immune to being broken down into tiny pieces than the Living One? It won’t be the same kind of damage, but it would still weaken you at a point where you can’t afford to be weakened. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you and it was my fault.”

“Hm.” Teraeth wrinkled his nose and looked like he’d either been drinking some of the local water or was contemplating arguing the point.

I stared at him.

Teraeth stared back.

I said, “You really wanted to have sex with me while we were here, didn’t you?”

“Yes, damn it, I really did! Stop laughing!” Teraeth’s indignation was quite possibly one of the cutest things I had seen in years.

I pressed my lips together and did my best. Or sort of my best. Kind of.

“I’ll have you know sex in the Afterlife—morbid and weird as that sounds—has serious advantages. Trust me. If I could just touch you…” Teraeth made a face, still grumbling his displeasure over the whole matter.

I believed him. Janel had made similar comments. In a world largely shaped by will and imagination, many of the more unpleasant, sticky, uncomfortable details of sex likely vanished completely.

I gave Teraeth—my beautiful, deadly, extremely enthusiastic Teraeth—a serious look.

“What is it?” Teraeth said, expression sliding into uncertainty.

“I just think it’s funny,” I said after a moment.

“What is?” His eyes narrowed.

I stepped in close. “That you think I have to touch you. Pretty sure I don’t.”

“Well, I—” Teraeth’s pupils dilated as he processed exactly what I meant. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, you know what I mean.” I was close enough by that point that if I’d been physically present, Teraeth would have been able to feel the heat of my breath. “And if we had time—which unfortunately, we don’t—I’d make you strip, slowly. And if you were very good and asked very nicely, I’d let you touch yourself. I would tell you exactly how you were allowed to touch yourself. I would watch you while you did that—maybe in that clearing over there in full view of anyone who might happen along. And then, after a time, because you are good and beautiful and perfect, I’d give you permission to finish.” I paused, smiling at the way Teraeth looked breathless after my speech.

Then I grinned evilly. “It’s a shame we don’t have time for that.”

I turned around and continued walking.

Stunned silence filled the air behind me and then a strangled “Kihrin!” filled that void.

I managed to keep from laughing that time, but barely.

When Teraeth caught back up to me, he decided to handle the situation in classic style—by pretending it had never happened. “So, Janel, Talea, and Xivan are fine. Yes, they’re going after Doc.” He tugged down the hem of his wrap. “I see real potential for a family reunion brewing here. Janel’s looking for my father, and here we are about to visit dear old Mom.”

I didn’t have to look hard to unearth a positive treasure trove of bitterness buried under that sarcasm. If family trauma set upon a table with a mage-light aimed directly at it could be considered “buried.” “I don’t know how to break this to you, but we have to find your mother first. She could be anywhere, and it’ll just be worse if she doesn’t have her memories.”

Teraeth scoffed again, a single deep heave of his chest. “Oh, she’ll remember,” Teraeth said. “I bet you anything that we’ll find my mother in her palace in the Land of Peace, no doubt cursing your name, mine, and everyone we’ve ever known.”

“She’d know where Doc is,” I mused, but I also knew she’d never tell us.

“Yes, and she’ll never tell us,” Teraeth said. “What are you trying to find out from her, anyway?”

I hesitated. Just for a second. It was impossible that Teraeth didn’t notice. “I have this theory that Relos Var is going to try to use a ritual to get rid of the demons.”

“Yes, because that’s gone so well previously.” Teraeth waved a hand dismissively. “Not getting rid of the demons. I’m fine with that in general concept. I mean using a ritual to commit genocide in one easy step. Somehow it never works as planned.”

“Yes, funny you should mention that…”

“But hold on,” Teraeth said, scowling. “Because if it were that easy, surely Relos Var would have done it before, yes? Why wait until now?”

I shook my head, my mouth twisted into something only charitably similar to a smile. “Because it wasn’t in his best interests. The demons were keeping the Immortals busy, and that meant they weren’t spending all their time getting into Relos Var’s business. And then there was the small matter where it wouldn’t affect all the demons. If I’m right, then it won’t do anything to Xaltorath. It’s possible Var was concerned that he’d be creating a power vacuum that Xaltorath would happily step in to fill. Then he’d be right back where he started, but with demons he couldn’t ritual away.” I paused. “No, I don’t think Var plans to make the attempt until he’s dealt with Xaltorath.”

Teraeth chewed on that piece of information and his lower lip at the same time. “Why won’t it affect Xaltorath?”

“Because there’s a difference between the demons that came from the old universe following us, and ones like Suless or Xaltorath who figured it out here.” I mentally told myself to stop dancing around the issue and get to the point. “The reason I need to speak to Khaemezra is because I have a theory that all the souls that didn’t come with us as part of the original settlement arrived as demons. And every time you or your mother tossed a demon soul into the Font of Souls to destroy it, you were instead releasing more human souls.”

“Yes, that was the whole point—”

“Not the demons that were created from humans here. The demons who invaded. Those started out as human souls too.”

Teraeth blinked and turned to face me head-on. “What?”

“I realize it sounds a bit far-fetched—”

“For you. It even sounds far-fetched for you. Do you realize what a high bar that is?”

I glared. “I’m mighty tempted to say, ‘Fuck you,’ but I know how you’ll respond.”

“Hey, I was willing, but apparently, you’re just a projection.”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s the one. Anyway, trust me when I say that demons used to be human and, because of us, are often becoming human again. My fear is that Relos Var has created a ritual to target the unique idiosyncrasies of those demons, but by doing so, he’s targeting every soul that isn’t a Founder’s.”

Teraeth didn’t say anything for several long seconds.

“I’m not a reincarnation of a Founder,” Teraeth said.

“Yes,” I replied. “I know.”

Teraeth let out a tense bark of a laugh. “So once again, my life is in jeopardy because of a magical ritual. No wonder everything’s feeling so familiar; I’ve danced to this melody before.”

“Don’t get too excited about the tune. I’m making a lot of assumptions that might easily be completely and totally wrong. That’s why I want to talk to Thaena, or rather, the Thaena who’s been doing the job for long enough to know something.” I shrugged. “Truthfully, I’d prefer Galava, but since Xaltorath ate her, I’m going with the easier option.”

“Could’ve been worse.” Teraeth gestured and continued walking.

I nearly muttered a prayer as if that would have done any good. “I can’t believe you just said that. I expected you to know better by now.”

“I’m just saying Xaltorath could have eaten both of them.” Teraeth didn’t especially look like the idea upset him.

I supposed I’d have held a bit of a grudge too, in Teraeth’s shoes.³

As Teraeth started to speak again, I held up a hand. “Do you hear that?”

“Ah, I see you’ll be playing the part of Janel tonight. Good to know.” Then he frowned. “Okay, yes, I hear it too. Fighting. We must be close to the Chasm. It’s hard to see with all these trees blocking things.”

“Yes. I’ll be right back.” I was only there as a mental projection after all—there was no particular reason I had to pay attention to such fiddly little details as gravity if I didn’t feel like it.

So I floated up above the tree line. Not dramatically—not in a “look at me!” kind of way—but enough to have a better idea what was happening. I groaned at what I saw and then immediately dropped back down again.

“That good?”

I scowled. “Xaltorath’s attacking the Chasm.”⁴

The terrible irony of it all was that this was exactly what I wanted—in fact, finding Xaltorath saved me an extraordinary amount of trouble later on. I needed Xaltorath for my plans.

Except …

If I was right about Relos Var’s plans to be rid of the demons, then Xaltorath’s continued existence might well be one of the only things keeping Relos Var from enacting that final ritual. Currently, I was in no position to try to convince Relos Var why he shouldn’t do it, let alone stop the wizard. And there was the problem of location. The last place I wanted to fight Xaltorath was on top of the Chasm. It would mean fighting Xaltorath with a foot already in position to trip and fall into that other universe. While I’d never firmly established whether or not Relos Var could travel to the Afterlife, it seemed like giving the man too much opportunity to tick off all the boxes on his list of goals.

The collateral damage might overwhelm the harried defenders and destroy the barrier erected so long ago to keep out the worst effects of that other universe. My plans hinged on fighting Xaltorath in the Living World.

Fighting Xaltorath here was a terrible idea.

Which was a problem, since we needed to get past him.

Teraeth sighed and started checking his knives. I had to assume that was just reflex since any weapons he had here were inventions of his mind.

“Fine,” Teraeth said when he finished. “Let’s go scout out the situation and see what can be done.”

“I might be able to draw him off,” I said. “Distract him. But if I have to stay and keep Xaltorath occupied, you’ll have to enter the palace alone.”

Teraeth cursed enthusiastically. It wasn’t too difficult to imagine that the last thing Teraeth wanted was to go back into the Land of Peace to have a “pleasant” conversation with his dead mother—assuming she was there at all.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” I said as a peace offering.⁵