Empire of Night (Age of Legends 2)

"But I did not shriek, correct?"

She smiled. "You did not shriek." Her gaze swept over him. "That thing didn't bite you, did it?"

Her tone had Tyrus touching his face, eyes widening in alarm. "I don't think so. A bite doesn't turn one into a shadow stalker, does it?"

"That would be ridiculous," Moria said. "I meant that being bitten by any dead thing cannot be healthy. But I don't think we're dealing with shadow stalkers either. Not the sort we've seen."

She glanced at Ashyn, who nodded and said, "I suspect it's a . . ." She looked at the distant monks and lowered her voice. "A related incident. If Alvar is using such strong spirit-based magics, side effects could be expected."

Moria nodded. "Alvar raises shadow stalkers and disturbs the natural process of death and passage to the second world, trapping spirits in this realm and forcing them to seek other habitation."

"I'm not sure they seek it." Ashyn looked at the broken mummy and shuddered. "I cannot imagine voluntarily trapping oneself in that."

"Which begs the question," Tyrus said. "Why return when it had been freed? We felt the spirit leave. It fled the moment it could. And then returned?"

"I don't think it actually--"

The mummy twitched. This time, both Ronan and Tyrus leaped on it, blades slashing. Ronan severed an arm. Tyrus cleaved the corpse clean in half, the legs falling free. Yet the thing was already in flight, hurtling itself at Moria . . . who skewered it on the end of her outthrust dagger. She held it there, casually, as the mummy gnashed its teeth and clawed with its remaining arm.

"Need some help with that?" Tyrus asked.

"No, it's remarkably light. That must be a result of the drying process."

"And the fact it's missing three limbs."

"True."

Ashyn cast a nervous glance at the huddled monks, now shifting and looking their way. "We ought to lower our voices. Or be more respectful. It is a monk, after all."

"Mmm, not truly," Moria said. "It's only part of a monk." She caught Ashyn's look. "Yes, I know. Give me a hand getting it free."

Ashyn looked aghast at the mummy, and Moria sputtered a laugh.

"I mean the spirit," she said.

Ashyn started her entreaties, while Moria ordered the spirit gone. It didn't take long before the wind came, signaling the spirit's departure.

"Now let's hope it stays gone this time," Ronan said.

Ashyn cleared her throat. "Actually, as I was trying to say, I don't think the spirit returned." She pointed at the sealed box next to the open one. "That one's been quiet since the first attack. And now I'll wager one of those two"--she pointed at the boxes on the other wagon--"is quiet."

Tyrus nodded. "Because those spirits hopped into this fellow."

"They can apparently jump bodies on their own, but cannot move to the second world without help. I think the attacks were more panic than anything. Realizing they'd leaped, only to still not be free."

"So let's help the last one," Moria said. "Ronan? Pry open that fourth box. I'll guard this"--she indicated the hacked-up mummy--"in case he makes the jump. Ashyn? Can you go with Ronan and perform the rituals? If we can do this without me bullying the spirit, that's best."

"And my task?" Tyrus asked.

"I would not presume to give you one, your highness."

Tyrus laughed. "Which means you don't have anything for me to do. I'll help Ronan. Shout if that comes back to life."

"I think I can handle it."

He grinned. "I've no doubt."

They laid the last spirit to rest without incident. Then Tyrus spoke to the monks. He told them that he had no idea what had happened, but it was resolved now and they ought not to speak of it to anyone until he'd related the events to his imperial father.