Page 58 of Magic and Medicine

‘Report!’ Leszek’s voice cut through the cacophony echoing from the surrounding walls, and the witch behind him moved her hands, eyes turning completely white before she began describing the fight between a group of shifters and several gunmen. More shots followed, and he gestured for us to go uphill.

‘We need to head to the main building,’ he shouted, rushing forward. Leszek’s hand slipped from mine as he created a shield to protect us. I tried to call out, falling behind the group, unable to keep pace with these warriors.

A pain in my chest left me stumbling, the song becoming urgent, pulling me away, begging me to help, and I realised the melody was a soul trapped and desperate to be free. Help me, free me. It hurts so much. When those words came to me, the image that accompanied them tore at my heart. The vision of a man tied to an amber altar, blood soaking into its surface as he breathed his last, and, instead of following Leszek and keeping my promise, I turned and headed into the darkness of the fort’s tunnels.

A short incantation later, definitely not a curse at having the wrong type of magic, I pulled my phone, letting its torch light the way in. I would stop and marvel at my skills if not for the irresistible call I felt building in my core.

The sound of automatic weapons and injured people faded the further I delved into the underbelly of the fort. The renovated section, its walls scraped clean of moss and grime, gave way to medieval architecture that looked so unstable I gasped each time I had to squeeze myself under the decrepit beams.

‘You can do it, Sara. You can do it.’ I murmured. The more I walked, the more I noticed an improvement in my surroundings, the blurry visions from earlier returning, but more clearly, as if the darkness encouraged my belief in them. As my thoughts tried to pick apart the unusual phenomenon, my ears popped, and the alluring melody suddenly stopped. I stumbled, grasping the wall to steady myself, worrying as my mind focused and the reality of the situation came crashing down. What the fuck have I done? And where the hell am I?

‘Welcome, Soul Shepherd. The Council is expecting you.’ Surprised at hearing a voice, even one as dry as dust, I gasped, turning to escape, only to bounce off the newly solid wall behind me.

‘What the fuck! Who are you? I have to go back, please. I will return some other time, I promise.’ I panicked. The song that lured me here had nothing to do with Nikolai Rostov, and it felt like I was heading to my execution.

The sound of ripping flesh, moist, terror-inducing, stole my reason, my fingers clawing at the stone barrier as I tried to escape the repugnant noise, but I had to turn in the end, fear giving way to a fatalistic acceptance, wanting to face my demise. A spindly creature waited patiently, feeding on the carcass of a massive eel, before tossing it casually aside, shaking her beak clean of blood and meat. She looked at me, and I flinched at seeing an eagle’s head with a human face and a beak. It was as fascinating as it was nauseating.

‘Come, little seer. No harm will befall you whilst under my care, but I’ve had to inform the Council of your arrival before others learn about it. You have enemies within Gedania, so hurry.’

‘But Leszek…’

‘Leshy is fighting his own battle. He did wrong hiding you from them. Greedy, greedy one, he knew who you were but hid you, and they are unhappy.’ She said, and with no other choice, I followed her.

‘Why have I been summoned like this?’ I asked, trying to prepare myself mentally for what was to come.

‘I do not know, but there is much debate about your future. You shouldn’t have helped the Leshy the way you did. Now Gedania is in uproar, with many wanting a return to the old ways, living and being worshipped in the mortal realm,’ she said, and I felt my heartbeat speed up.

‘I don’t even know what I did, so how can I be expected to recreate a fluke?’

‘You will do what you are told. A mortal cannot defy the gods. They want your willing participation, but be under no illusion; they will never accept your refusal. What do you think the melody you heard earlier was? A goddess gets what a goddess wants.’ The last sentence wasn’t meant for my ears, more thought than spoken word, but I still understood. This was the work of someone with more than magical power.

As I was led from the tunnel, I stopped, blinking against the bright sunlight, gaping at the reality of my mirage from the fort, the stunning edifice of smoky stone and polished wood, the runes and mythical creatures on its surface no longer carvings but animated effigies that danced and frolicked wherever the mood took them.

My companion made a clicking noise with her beak, grabbing my elbow as a wave of magic rolled over us; the mental command, Hurry, he is forcing the Gates, echoing through my mind.

‘Who is forcing the Gates?’ I asked when she forced me to run, but the creature made more distressed noises until we burst through the doors into a circular room, stopping in front of a group of people on stone benches. Their heads turned in my direction with the whole gamut of expressions, from polite friendliness to outright hatred.

‘Welcome, child. I didn’t expect to see you here so early.’ A plump old woman with a crown of golden hair welcomed me with a smile, and I felt warmth spread through my soul like a mother’s embrace.

‘The Council hasn’t offered an official invitation to the Soul Shepherd, yet she broke through the veil, clearly with nefarious intentions if Leszek is fighting for control of the Gates.’ A beautiful woman with wavy sea-green hair and a pale complexion looked at me with pure malice in her eyes, though I had no idea why when I didn’t even know who she was.

‘Then give her to me, Jurata. Even though the Leshy tried to erase it, I can still feel my mark on her soul. I can punish her to your satisfaction.’ The person who spoke up was dressed in an opulent robe covered in various gemstones, though I noticed most were the colour of amber. The scorching heat that emanated from his body reminded me of summer days right before the storm when cloudless skies prostrated the unwary with heatstroke. I tried stepping back as he approached, but before I could move, he touched my cheek, and my back spasmed, making me hiss in pain through clenched teeth.

‘A seer and a Soul Shepherd with healing magic. Interesting combination. Tell me, little seer, how could you not know about your gifts? You must have seen things no other could see, yet here you stand, your mind defenceless, burning under my touch.’ He said, slowly trailing his fingers along my cheek, turning this inspection into a lover’s caress, but worse still, I saw the hunger in his eyes, and it sickened me.

‘Can you please stop touching me… Sir, I wouldn’t want to stain your bathrobe with my vomit. Is there a point to your question? Yes, I could see things, but no one could teach me about them.’ I flinched, pulling away from his touch before looking at the blonde matron. ‘Is this touchy-feely thing normal here, or is he trying to flirt with me?’ I asked with all the bravado I could muster. The snorts and covert laughter upset my antagonist, and I hissed when the heat intensified. I was sure he’d burned me, yet after the laughter, I felt that standing up for myself was the only way out of this situation.

‘Leave her, brother and tone down your power. She is a seer. She belongs to me by law, and I introduced her to my son for a reason.’ The stern reprimand came from a corner where a man clad in darkness sat motionlessly with the unblinking stare of an ancient reptile.

‘Thank you, Sir, though I’d like to point out that I belong to no one. Magic doesn’t change the fact that it’s the twenty-first century, especially when being passed around like an unwanted gift, but I appreciate your concern regarding the heat and integrity of my skin.’ If they were going to kill me, I had nothing to lose, but I toned down my words when I saw the smile teasing on his lips. ‘May I know your names? I feel like the only one without the faintest idea what’s happening.’

‘I like her. She has the spirit of a warrior,’ that came from an old man on the right. I struggled to see his face as his shape blurred and changed, rippling like a windswept meadow. ‘I’m Stribog. The one who defended you is Veles, the father of the Leshy. The man who tried to ignite your clothes is Svarog, who should know better than to try it on a mortal.’ He said, and I acknowledged it with a smile. ‘Our mother, Mokosh, who welcomed you here and lastly, there’s Jurata, who, I was told, sent the Obra to greet you.’ He added, and the green-haired woman sent him a murderous look.

‘Obra?’ I asked, and the man nodded.

‘Yes, the creature that lured you here with its song. The voice doesn’t exactly match the visage, but my servant dealt with it before anything untoward could happen.’

‘You’re talking about the ugly eel thing?’ My face twisted in disgust, but it was useful putting names to the faces of those weighing my future, and just to upset Jurata a little for her machinations, I bowed deeply to Stribog. ‘Thank you, my Lord, your kindness and protection is appreciated.’

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