Ossard Rising: The Ossard Series, #4

By Colin Taber

Following on from the third Ossard book, Ossard's Shadow:

Juvela and the Prince have reached Ba Er Kaan, a ruined ogre city of the dead, where her truth will be revealed.

But they are not alone.

Meanwhile, far to the west, Sef and Anton have reached the borders of the Dagruan heartland in Kalraith.

Yet they are pursued.

And back in the Northcountry, the cultist controlled city of Ossard finally begins to rise anew.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thought Stream Creative Services
• Release date: Apr 27, 2017
• ISBN: 9781507013939

Colin Taber

  Colin Taber was born in Australia in 1970 and announced his intention to be a writer at the innocent age of 6. His father, an accountant, provided some cautious advice, suggesting that life might be easier if his son pursued a more predictable vocation. Colin didn't listen. Over the past twenty years Colin's had over a hundred magazine articles published, notably in Australian Realms Magazine. In 2009 his first novel, The Fall of Ossard, was released to open his coming of age dark fantasy series, The Ossard Trilogy. The second installment, Ossard's Hope, followed in 2011 and was supported by a national book signing tour. Currently Colin is working on the final book in that trilogy, Lae Ossard, and his new series The United States of Vinland. Colin has done many things over the years, from working in bookshops to event management, small press publishing, landscape design and even tree farming. All he really wants to do, though, is to get back to his oak grove and be left to write. Thankfully, with an enthusiastic and growing readership, that day is coming. He currently haunts the west coast city of Perth.

Book preview

The Truths of the World

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Three races of man separated by the ages;

The high, the Lae Velsanans;

the numerous common-men of the middling nations;

and the lowly Saldaens.

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Three branches of magic, each with a league to control them;

Mind, governed by the women of the forbidden Sisterhood;

Soul, wielded by the priesthoods of the faiths;

and Heart, regulated by the Cabal of Mages.

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Three realms of existence;

Ours of soil;

the Celestial of souls, gods, and magic;

and the Elemental.

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Three stages of godhood;

Avatars, seeds within mortal shells;

the New-Born, awakened gods upon our world;

and the Elevated, those matured and raptured to the next.

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And all in a world forged by the goddess, Life,

in partnership with her husband, Death.

Yet now they are estranged and waging divine war,

a war that promises doom for us all.

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Maps: Northern Dormetia (west)

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Maps: Northern Dormetia (east)

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Maps: Ossard & The Northcountry

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Maps: The City-State of Ossard

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A Prelude In Two Parts

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Part I: The Scouts Sail

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The Pasinotis, Yamere, The Fifth & Final Dominion.

Forwao stood in the roof gardens of the Pasinotis and took in the view. Far in the distance, the first five ships were setting sail, heading out from the docks and into the fine morning. They were going to scout the route for the High King’s navy.

His eyes studied every detail, squinting slightly against the sun’s glare. Standing alone under such a beautifully blue sky, it seemed out of place that he, the Chronicle, held his jaw so tightly clenched.

But he worried.

Much was now in motion and likely to bring great upheaval.

Or was it?

In truth, he could no longer see some things or know for certain.

His visions of the future, as gifted by the gods so he could fulfil his role as Chronicle, had been recently dimmed. Never before had a veil fallen across his vision.

Who worked to shroud the future from him — or was it a sign that everything had begun to fray?

The departing ships were only part of what he watched. Between him and them, the crowded districts and towers of the grand capital, and at the far edge of the metropolis, the port sprawled in a series of long docks, where hundreds of the High King’s naval ships were being readied.

The ships weren’t only to be loaded with supplies to keep troops and sailors alive, nor weapons and armour or the troops themselves, but also thousands of altered naskae to be used in the coming campaign. And with the naskae would be hundreds of cabalists on the war fleet to arm and unleash the blue glowing and incendiary magical charges.

Ossard, as it stood today, was doomed. That much, at least, was certain.

High King Caemarou spoke from behind as he arrived to join Forwao at the balustrade. The fleet is almost ready to go and claim Lae Ossard.

Forwao turned and dipped his head at his sovereign. The scouts sail this very moment. But he spoke slowly, his words uncertain.

You are troubled by something? the High King asked with a smirk.

The scouts seem too few.

High King Caemaoru chuckled. This will be easy. And later, with a secure port at Serahem in the south and Lae Ossard in the north, we will be free to turn our attention on the heart of the Heletian League.

Greater Baimiopia.

Forwao’s heart sank to hear it. This was what he had dreaded; this was the war that would wash Dormetia in blood. Has the time come for that? What if Ossard resists?

The High King laughed with derision, but then silenced his mirth, considering who spoke — the Chronicle, the man who knew the future. The city cannot stand against us.

They will try.

But you don’t see them succeed, do you?

Forwao frowned and shook his head, for he was increasingly unsure of what he saw. The shadows deepened ahead as they approached this most critical moment of Unae’s history.

The High King said, My cabalists and their altered naskae will scorch the Northcountry if need be, but we will take it all the same.

The cultists of Ossard are not without their own celestial power.

The High King scowled, but only for a moment. That is why I am increasing the size of the force.

Forwao was surprised. He had not foreseen that.

Something was at work here.

Horns sounded from above, calling out the song of farewell, pure and strong.

As the notes began, blown from pure silver, shadows passed over Forwao and High King Caemarou.

The Chronicle looked up in surprise as the first in a flight of fifty airships passed close overhead. The majestic ships’ navigational sails strained full with the breeze, while their bulging main envelopes billowed full of the elemental air that kept the vessels in the heavens.

High King Caemarou revelled in the surprise he saw on the Chronicle’s face. Finally, he said, Forwao, my dear all-knowing friend, you didn’t see that coming!

A Prelude In Two Parts

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Part II: Ossard Rising

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The walls of Ossard, the Northcountry.

Heinz Kurgar, the Lord of Ossard, stood on the city’s wall and looked up the vale. The sun was about to set behind him, washing the world in a soft golden light. The sight before him should have been idyllic, a blooming spring landscape that spoke of new life, but the Northcountry had changed

For generations the view had been of steep green slopes, the river, and the patchwork of fields as the Cassaro Valley snaked its way lazily up towards the Northcountry’s mountainous heart.

Not anymore.

Since the dawn of spring, the vista had been marked by battle-churned fields, rotting bodies and other debris of war. And, as soon as the slaughter had ended at the breached gates, with the Inquisition defeated, even fouler elements of ruin had come to sour the view and spread like a virulent pestilence over following days.

Long plumes of smoke rose like morbid banners from the farms and hamlets scattered up the vale. The fighting had eventually come to each of them, always aided by flame. Such dark markers now trailed all the way up the Cassaro, well past the first bend, even stretching beyond the unseen town of Goldston.

The lone market town and its great stone bridge still stood and refused to bow before the might of Ossard.

Seig Manhiem, the head priest of Kave in the city, stood beside Kurgar and also looked upon the vale. But it was not the distant streamers of smoke or rotting loyalist corpses that preoccupied the two men’s thoughts.

No, not at all.

Instead, it was an enemy they had never expected to return to face them.

Juvela.

A woodland had begun to spread along the northern slopes of the vale. If you stood and watched, you could actually see individual trees shoot up as saplings, thickening their trunks as they climbed and then spread mature crowns to paint the slopes in a darker green. Slopes of pasture, rock and poisonous oleander were gradually being overrun and smothered by the strange summoning.

The growing forest consisted of rosetrees, primarily, but also oak, beech and elms. The advance along the ridgetop and down the slope was slow compared to marching troops, but it was so much more persistent. Her troops, these of wood, did not stop to eat, rest or sleep.

And the trees meant only one thing — Juvela still had the energy to fight for Life.

The two men had thought her strength all but spent.

Despite the loss of many of her people who had allied themselves with the Inquisition’s forces in the recent attack, and in spite of the ending of the divine war between Life and Death all those years ago, she persisted.

She still held on to her hope that she could make a difference.

Juvela still believed.

And that made her dangerous.

Seig broke the silence and asked, What shall we do with this accursed woodland?

We will torch it and salt the ground.

I was once a farmer, many years ago. If you salt the slope above, you will also poison the fields along the bottom of the vale. He shook his head as he took in the expanse of the forest. It was huge. In any case, I doubt you could find enough salt, even for just a pinch for every stump.

Kurgar frowned. I will take your advice, as we do not want to endanger our fields. Still, the wood cannot be left to spread.

So?

We will torch it starting tomorrow.

Seig nodded. Good. But after a long pause, he added, I don’t understand what she aims to prove.

No, it seems a waste of power.

Yes, the Kavist agreed.

I have people out there investigating. We will know if it has a purpose soon enough.

The air chilled behind them.

Heavy steps sounded, causing them both to tense. They knew who approached, flagged as if the air carried the damp and earthy stink of the grave. Slowly, they turned to face their guest.

Behind them stood Silva Liberigo, the former Lord of Ossard, and host of the possessing spirit of Juvela’s grandmother. The entity was still ripe with the joy of her claimed revenge against the Inquisition, and in her victory she not only continued to possess Silva’s body, but also change it.

She was being born anew.

And in that strange transition, Silva’s body, the parts that would not be hers, were beginning to discolour and rot as she prepared to shed them like overripe fruits.

Neither of the two cultists stood comfortable with the former lord before them. The entity was powerful and a great unknown.

Kurgar offered, Good evening.

Seig bowed his head in greeting.

Silva pushed between them, forcing them both to step apart. He then put his hands on the parapet and looked down the vale. After a pause, he said, The woodland, like so much Life magic, is defensive. The trees stand there only to keep us out.

The two men turned back to look at it, both considering the supernatural figure’s words.

Grandmother, wearing the skin of Silva, added, I will go and tend to them, as my time here is done.

By My Own Hand

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A Fourth Belated Introduction

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And so we return to my dark tale.

I reached the ruins of the abandoned Ogre city of Ba Er Kaan as guided by the Prince, but my time at that place was not to be straight forward. That, of course, would have been too easy.

Just as Sef and Anton were forced into detours and unknown roads as they made their way to the heart of Kalraith, I also discovered obstacles and complications in my quest for knowledge of how to use my power.

In Ba Er Kaan’s cloud-haunted streets I would experience moments of profound learning, but also fear. All of it would combine to make me both stronger and wiser.

In time.

It was also where I began to truly comprehend not just what the Prince taught me, but how it might be used. And it was also where I would finally discover a sense of calm I had not known since before my magical awakening.

Finally, the end of my long journey was nearing. And that meant my path was becoming clear.

Juvela

Part I

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A Leap of Faith

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Chapter 1

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A Leap of Faith

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High in the Varm Carga Mountains, over the Ruins of Kalraith.

Sef, Anton and Matraia rushed into the cloud forest, continuing down a rocky slope that ran away from the ancient mountain road. Their flight was a blur of hurry in a vista of overgrown greenery made up of moss, ferns and low hanging leaved branches, all of it flashing past them, as did the twisted trunks of trees struggling to grow at such high elevation.

The three friends also passed between great boulders and skirted spills of rock long ago fallen from the steep mountainside rising at their backs. In all their efforts, they worked to do one simple thing — to escape any pursuit issuing from the tunnel under the mountain far behind them.

They had to escape the vermin!

Above, the daylight began to fade as the afternoon passed its zenith, leaving the woods around them slipping into gloom. While night would not properly fall for a long while, the mountain-wall of the Varm Carga already blocked any direct sun, casting their path into shadow. And strong light was one of the few allies the three friends could claim against those who pursued them.

Sef hissed, This way! as he turned and headed parallel to the ancient roadway, but well down from its shoulder in the depths of the wood. The lower path kept them hidden from any vermin the big Flet feared were even now charging out of the tunnel.

Anton and Matraia followed.

The cloud forest they passed through might have seemed a rich green after days of dark tunnels, but it was in truth not lush or thick. The undergrowth spread along a wide ledge that held the roadway close to the mountainside, while at its other end, visible through the trees, the greenery ended as its edge dropped away starkly.

Beyond the trees, the blue sky beckoned, revealing a view to the far side of the wide valley below. The valley nursed the first of the thick forests leading into the more distant twin basins at the heart of Kalraith.

That distant mountain wall glowed gold at its heights, where the sun fell upon thick shrouds of snow. But lower down, bare rocky slopes, dark cloud forests and vales of alpine grasses lay in dim shadow, just like the lower woodlands of the nearby valley.

As they continued on, Anton asked, How far will we have to go?

Matraia answered, My people will have outposts in the vale here, but we are still too high up.

They continued on, taking a rugged path that cut across a treeless section of slope carpeted green by ferns and moss. Glancing back up the mountainside, they could see they were crossing an old landslip where a section of the slope had slid away, even taking the ancient road above with it. They moved quickly. The trail ran across the slide, steeply zigzagging down to another ledge of cloud forest below.

Briefly, with no trees to obscure the view, they could clearly see how high up they remained. They might be below the snow line, but the distance to the depths of the vale were dizzying to look at.

Sef said, The day is dying and with it the light. Whether it be the vermin catching us on this trail or gargoyles diving down on us from above, this will be our greatest test.

They knew what he said to be true, but they continued on, burning the last of their energy in their mad rush to get as far down the mountain as they could as they headed for the lands of the Dagruan.

-

Their journey continued down through stepped sections of the cloud forests spread across a series of ledges. Slowly, they made progress, nearing the lowlands of the forested vale that would deliver them to the beginnings of the sprawling heart of Kalraith.

But they still had far to go.

They stopped to take some water where their chosen path switched back after steeply descending a barren section of rocky slope. Ahead of them spread a new patch of cloud forest, the growth thicker and richer now, while above them they could see the greenery of the last wood they had just passed through.

Anton said, I don’t know about you, but I am happy to continue until the end of time when I think about what lays at our backs.

Sef grinned after taking a drink from a narrow mountain stream bubbling past them. Yes, I only need to think to what hunted us in the tunnels to rediscover my new found passion for running.

They were both thinking of the ominous presence that had never quite caught them, but had come after them in the tunnels shrouded in not just purple celestial sparks, but robed in a malicious stink.

The presence had been strong enough to both drive them away in terror, but also to overwhelm and paralyse them.

They shivered to think of what they had left behind them, hidden in the mountain.

Matraia listened as she flexed her great wings. The injured wing, holed and made lame by gargoyles back in the skies over the forests on the borders with Fletland, now seemed to have healed.

Finally.

Anton watched her as she stretched and tested it. How is it?

She turned to him with wide eyes. Strangely, it is well. I don’t know how strong it is, but your last round of care, the blood magic, seems to have finally closed over the puncture and set the broken bones to knit.

Sef was pleased to hear it, but his brow furrowed as he pondered a question.

She met his gaze, wondering the same thing.

Could she fly?

After flexing her wings again, letting them fully spread to put all three of them in shadow, she closed them and said, I think I could go for help.

Anton raised an eyebrow, but concern shown on his face. Would you make it?

She pursed her lips. I wouldn’t have to fly... I could just glide from these mountain heights to the nearest Dagruan outpost and seek aid.

Sef and Anton exchanged glances before the big Flet asked, Do you think it wise? If you feel you can make it, I am all for it, but if you think you’re more likely to run into trouble or the injury might reopen, then perhaps we are better off to stay together for now?

I am not sure, but it feels strong enough for gliding, which does not take the strength or energy that flying requires. From here I would simply launch from the ledge and ride the updraft, then wheel down to the nearest outpost.

You make it sound easy.

There would only be two threats.

Yes? Anton pressed.

Either of the injuries reasserting themselves or discovery by gargoyles above.

Anton winced at the thought. If the gargoyles caught you — and you are not fully mobile — they would tear you to shreds.

Sef said, It’s too much of a risk. You haven’t even tested the wing. Should the healing of the break fail, you will plummet to your death. You can’t glide on one wing.

She looked out across the wide vale. The wind blew strong, but it came from below, an updraft blasting up the slope. I suppose, but should things get desperate, we have the option.

Anton and Sef exchanged glances, before the Outleaguer said, Things would have to be desperate indeed!

Sef readied himself to lead on as he smiled and said, Yes, and after all we’ve been through, some of it already quite desperate, I think we can put that off for now.

Quietly, Anton and Matraia laughed as they began to follow his lead.

From further up the slope, a small rock skidded down to land in the stream and splash the chill water.

They all looked back up the mountain.

Something had stopped among the moss, ferns, and the leaf-heavy branches of trees on the rock-faced ledge, and for a moment, just a heartbeat, they saw the dark snout of one of their pursuers. The vermin’s eyes narrowed against the daylight’s glare. The creature had been studying them, but now was gone.

Sef did not waste any time. Let’s go!

They started down the path into the next stretch of cloud forest.

-

The three friends hurried through the next section of cloud forest and far beyond.

The tight and winding trail they followed cut through the ever-thickening undergrowth the further they descended the mountain, just as the trees they wove between grew more robust and varied.

While above them the afternoon drew on.

They knew the daylight would eventually desert them, succumbing at sunset to the coming night. And the dark would only hinder them while aiding their foes.

So, they continued on as fast as they could, hurrying as they increasingly stumbled with fatigue.

-

Eventually, in their zigzagging descent, they passed below a rocky promontory jutting from the end of the previous mountain ledge of cloud forest they’d not long before passed through. As they did, a poisoned dart came shooting down into their new section of woods.

Sef looked up as he urged the others on, briefly catching sight of a vermin peering down at him over the ledge. The beast, one of the larger creatures, held a blow pipe in its wretched claws. Quickly, the creature disappeared, turning from the ledge and back to the downward path that would switch back and forth, eventually leading it directly to them.

Drawing his sword, Sef urged Anton and Matraia to keep going, saying he would follow them. Go, I will take the rear. Our pursuer is just above us and will catch us soon!

The wind built up around them, the turbulent blast rustling the woodland and wailing as it blew between the tree trunks.

-

They continued on, level after level, through either linked patches of cloud forests or others separated by steep rocky slopes requiring careful negotiation in spite of their rush. Occasionally, Sef hung back and watched for any sign of pursuit, but none came for a good while, until they reached a particular narrow stretch of cloud forest still too high up the mountain.

The big Flet had paused to look back up the green path at their rear.

And this time it had not been empty.

He saw a flash of movement, something dark chasing after them but quickly lost behind a bend in the winding trail.

Sef hissed, They’re coming! We’ve got to move faster!

Matraia asked, How far away?

They’re behind us. They’ll be here soon!

She cursed.

He searched around as he pushed them on, looking at the narrow section of forest they passed through. We need to find a place we can defend.

Anton also inspected their surroundings as they continued on. There’s nowhere. We’re in their territory, and later we will have to deal with gargoyles!

Sef said, We can’t give up!

Matraia growled, We will not, but we are going to have to take a risk to survive this!

Anton was worried, for he’d grown quite attached to Matraia. What?

She began to lead them into the undergrowth and off the path that followed alongside the mountainside. We have to get to my people or at least put more distance between us and the vermin.

From behind them, now in the same section of cloud forest, they could hear the unmistakeable sound of something large moving through the woodland and rustling leaves and breaking wood.

Sef hurriedly asked, What are you suggesting?

She continued leading them through the undergrowth, and towards the edge of the cloud forest.

Sef and Anton could see the end of the trees. The trunks framed a view of blue sky, with nothing beyond.

There, she said, to the cliff’s edge!

Movement again sounded from behind them as their pursuers closed in.

Anton asked, What are you going to do?

I can get us off here, but Sef will need to give me a blessing of strength.

The big Flet continued to worry, but the request for a blessing focussed his thoughts. I can do that, but we must be quick. You also need to know that the blessings aren’t taking well with you. I think your body and soul has suffered too much.

She nodded, exhausted now, just like her friends, but she also knew she could do something here, something invaluable.

She could fly.

Matraia said, Just do what you can.

They crossed the last of the undergrowth and came to the cliff’s edge, the last of the ledge mere stones, ferns and moss.

The winds blasted from below to drag at undergrowth and roar.

The drop down was long, well over a thousand paces, but before them spread the wide wooded vale that would eventually lead them to Kalraith’s central basins.

Mataria said, Quickly Sef, gift me strength!

Behind them the pursuit closed, audible even over the gusting wind.

Anton was looking back and forth, between their nearing foes and the wide void beyond.

Sef concentrated as he began to seek the blessing required. He put a hand to her shoulder.

Anton looked to Matraia, voicing his fear, What are you going to do? You can’t go over, your wings may not hold?

She looked to him, focusing. You need to shed everything. You need to lose all weight. Leave your packs and weapons.

Anton was incredulous. What?

"We’re all going. You’re right, I can’t fly, but I can glide."

And carry us?

The vermin burst into view, dozens suddenly filling the far end of the path the three friends had made to the cliff’s edge. Some of the creatures were small, perhaps only knee high and on all fours, but behind them came others, twice as big and rushing forward, upright on two legs. Those who could walk also had weapons, carrying blowpipes and knives.

Sef’s calling of his blessing continued, him lost to what Anton and Matraia discussed. The power began to flow, and as it did, strength infused Matraia.

Anton shook his head. What are you going to do?

Carry all three of us.

If you fail, we’ll die!

If we stay, we also perish.

Sef opened his eyes, only now becoming aware of how close the vermin were to them.

Matraia said, Drop your pack and sword, you need to be as light as can be. 

Startled by the demand, Sef saw the vermin as they closed in, realising they were badly outnumbered and with no other choice for escape.

He shed his pack, but grabbed Juvela’s message for Dorloth, tucking it into his belt.

Beside them, Anton shook his head. He’d already shed everything he needed to, but then reached back down and picked up his knife, slipping it into his belt.

The vermin screeched as they charged, the larger beasts raising their weapons.

Sef saw no other option, so giving into Matraia’s risky plan, he yelled, Do it!

She stepped behind them and grabbed their belts, and then pushed them forward until they stood at the cliff’s very edge. The updraft blasted them, roaring as it filled their ears.

She said, Lean forward and give yourself to the wind!

Both Anton and Sef, after a shared glance, did just as she said.

Behind them, Matraia felt the strength of Juvela’s blessing in her hands, arms and shoulders, as she locked her grip on her friends’ belts and then spread her wings wide. Ready, she focused on the load she was about to bear as she let their movement pull them all over.

They dropped into the updraft, but instead of falling, they were immediately caught by the blast, courtesy of her great wings, and rose above the cliff edge and the trees of the cloud forest.

Sef and Anton cried out in horror.

Beneath them, some of the vermin, upon being foiled, began to shoot their poisoned darts after them.

The darts zinged past as Matraia guided them out of the strong wind and away from the cliff.

Beneath them, the wide valley opened up.

She locked her wings, focussing on wheeling down into the basin below.

But then grunted as something hit her in the shoulder.

Matraia ignored it but knew the pain.

She had been hit by another dart, and in the same shoulder where her previous poisoned wound lay.

She gritted her teeth and said nothing, instead determined to get her friends to safety.

Chapter 2

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The Ruins of Ba Er Kaan

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Ba Er Kaan, The Northcountry.

We came to a stop outside the library, where its façade rose over the long and ruined square. Five levels of dark windows and balconies stood before us, carved from the grey stone of the mountain, all of it above a set of broad stairs. Further up the steep slope, a large ledge ran across the mountain, something carved, I assumed, to catch smaller rock falls that I supposed would harry any such building over time. Despite its age and signs of wear, it was an awe inspiring sight.

I said, It is beautiful.

The Prince, predictably enough, whispered, Grae ru, his voice carrying a hint of pride.

As we watched, to the side of us, a few small rocks and a stream of pebbles ran down the slope to rattle and rumble before reaching the flagstones of the square, adding to a large spill of debris that had spent long years building up.

The bulk of the gathered rubble had been there long enough for moss, lichen and even a scattering of alpine grasses to have colonised it.

The Prince watched as a trickle of gravel followed the small dips, cracks and gullies in the slope, almost flowing like the waters of a stream. In some places it got caught, but in others it continued on until it reached the bottom. Some parts of that flow of pebbles knocked free other gravel and rocks, increasing the rattling rock fall.

I noticed him studying it, so also turned to watch.

One rock, the size of an apple, smacked into some others and knocked them free. A heartbeat later, half a dozen rocks had joined the flow, some bigger, which only dislodged more. Soon stones the size of skulls were tumbling down towards us.

I said, The fall just grows.

The Prince agreed, Grae ru.

It is fascinating to watch.

And a lesson in how we might use the world around us to complement our own power.

I agreed, The dips and channels in the rock face enable the flow, but the rises and ridges also slow or stop it.

Grae ru.

I added, Most falls must stop before they reach here, otherwise the square would be lost under a great spill of rubble.

Grae ru. So, if you were to set off your own rockslide, even with just a handful of pebbles, but you had the whole mountainside to choose a starting point, do you think you could create a slide that would reach the bottom?

I looked up at the mountain. Perhaps.

Do you think you could do that more so than the same handful of pebbles scattered at random?

I surveyed the intricacies of the slope. Yes, I suppose I could find better places to start. Regardless, the rock fall could still stop before reaching the bottom.

Grae ru.

But I see what you mean, about choosing your best starting point to get the most out of the opportunity.

This is about planning, but also watching for opportunities that might add to and help your own efforts.

Yes, planning and opportunity.

And what if you could also add handful after handful of stones to your rock fall to help push it further on after it had already begun, to strengthen its momentum.

Then you would have a rock fall that we would begin to have some control over, although it still might not reach the bottom.

What if the point of the rock fall was not to get to the bottom, but to bury what might try and stop it?

I watched as the last pebbles of gravel rolled down the slope, the trickle coming to an end. Well, that would change things. That makes the goal easier to achieve, I suppose.

Grae ru.

I paused, and then asked, Why are we here? What exactly am I going to learn?

You are going to become better at using your power — less wasteful, and with much stronger control. And not just with the faith magic that comes from your soul, but other types of magic as well. I am going to teach you how to combine them so you can multiply the power summoned, as if you were adding those extra handfuls of stones.

I wasn’t sure I understood, not in a practical sense.

How could you combine or multiply the power of magic?

He read the question in my mind. Juvela, think back to how ritual magic can be strengthened.

By using victims of the same bloodline. That’s what Kurgar did when Ossard fell.

He nodded. Now, consider if you started to combine different types of magic into one casting. It is hard to do, and not something for simple mortals to attempt, but to do so acts as another multiplier.

Simple mortals, he said, because I was no longer one. I was a god.

I asked, Combining magic types?

Like faith magic and ritual magic.

But how can I do that? I have never been schooled in magic to any great degree, let alone different types, or how to combine them.

You have already used or closely observed the use of various types of magic — faith, ritual, elemental and blood. I will school you in the basics of each and how you may manipulate them so you can combine their streams of power.

I am to learn all of that, to master all of those schools? How long will it take?

You will not learn all there is to know, not even much of it, merely what you need. More importantly, you will be able to add them to your own natural, deep well of power. That is what I will show you. When the time comes, others will also provide specialised castings that you will add to your weave.

Suddenly, I felt my soul flex, reaching out from the celestial into the real world at something nearby. A moment later a big rock the size of a melon landed at the base of the slope with a thud that made me jump. Startled, I stepped back as I looked up to see if more were coming.

The Prince said, Do not fear. It was alone.

I gasped, taken aback. The rock could have killed me!

Cooly, he answered, It was aimed at your head. And then the Prince surveyed the above slope.

I took another step back. Aimed?

Ghosts are here, just as they were back on the mountain road. Many, in fact. Too many to count. Most are hostile to your presence. They see a middling and remember the Heletians who came to slay them all those years ago.

I was stunned to hear it.

He continued, Much misery exists here, echoes of the dead muddled with even stranger things. I can even taste the memory of my own kind as if they were still living. So much grief and pain has been unleashed in this city that it has twisted reality.

Is it safe to stay here?

"I said