The War (Part 2)

The Wizard winked out of existence. The Singer was next, followed by the Fool.

“I love you,” I said hastily to Lilly. But she vanished, somewhere between the words “love” and “you.” Her dad raised an eyebrow at me just before he too vanished.

I tried calling out to her, wherever she was. Lilly! Can you hear me! But there was no answer. Perhaps Universe had been mistaken about our being linked.

Now that I was alone, I clung with one hand to the tooth of the stone panther. The rest of the flock had begun to drift farther and farther apart. I could see Sir Mau with a clump of nuns in the distance. Madam Bela was still nowhere to be seen. There was another clump of about thirty black-robed individuals who hadn’t said a word the whole time. Father Ori’s original flock, I surmised, judging from the haunted, dead look in their eyes. They were floating slowly down into the volcanic column, not seeming to mind the heat.

Asuana looked like a housefly, clinging to the edge of the distant bridge. I closed my eyes and reached out to Asuana and was surprised to find myself at the warm hearth with the bearskin rug. Asuana was already there, sitting cross-legged and holding a cup of what smelled like hot cocoa. “I could get used to this,” she said. “Have a seat.”

“They’re gone,” I said.

“So are the other morls,” she said. “Father Ori is muttering or meditating or something right above me. He doesn’t seem too happy about having all these people in his flock all of a sudden. But that’s kind of the point. So, I guess we can call that a small victory.”

“Is there a plan or something?” I said. “Now that all your people are here?”

“We have reason to believe the morls can be driven mad from the inside,” said Asuana.

“So that’s the plan?” I said. “Drive him crazy?”

“Preferably not just him,” said Asuana. “We need to get him to trade more of us to the others.”

I was eager to get started. “How do we do it?”

“First, we wait, and hope we hear from our fellow pilgrims. Information matters. If they don’t contact us, then we proceed to the backup plan.”

“Do I get to know what the backup plan is?”

“We annoy Father Ori until he begs the others to take us,” she said. “But he’ll probably try to torture us into silence first.”

I pinched myself, amazed at how real the pain felt, given that my body here was just a construct of my mind, sitting inside Asuana’s mind, trapped in Father Ori’s mind. Dreamstuff was weird. “While we wait,” I said. “You’re the First of the Five, right? I mean, it’s the only thing that makes sense. Or… maybe it’s you and your people collectively.”

She sipped her cocoa and said, “Nial, I know you like stories, but I’m afraid we don’t have time for one right now. All I can tell you is that I’m not the First of the Five. The gift my people share really isn’t that strong. The shrine’s amplification of it is what got us this far.”

A moment later, just when I was opening my mouth to probe for more information, Asuana cut me off with a stern gaze and said, “Nial, don’t annoy me. If I need you to be annoying, I’ll let you know. Perhaps the time will come to unleash your gift upon Father Ori. But for now… for once… stop it.”

So I busied myself by experimentally reaching out my mind to Lilly. When it didn’t work, I tried the Fool, just as I would have if the man were next to me. Surprisingly, I saw a flood of colors right away.

***

I saw through Jonny’s eyes: A drab room with a golden bell; a stained-glass window overlooking the orange adobe of Drymar; a morl shimmering in front of the window.

The morl made some kind of motion, causing words to appear in the air, as if he were painting with light. It is an honor to have you in my flock, Jonny of Davenport. In fact, you’re the first of my flock! As a welcoming gift, I’m giving you the ability to write words in the air just by thinking them.

Jonny grinned and wrote, What’s the job? Jonny likes jobs. I could feel the seething hatred inside Jonny’s stomach, could feel the pain in the muscles of his cheeks as he forced the grin, could feel the disgust as he wrote short sentences in an effort to appear stupid.

I am stuck in the bell tower, wrote the morl. Then he must have reconsidered because he erased the I am and wrote We are.

Jonny wrote, Stuck! Bad!

I have one thousand morlish troops just outside the city, he wrote. But the city guard is protecting the walls. If you help me get rid of them, I’ll give you more gifts.

Jonny likes jobs with gifts at end!

I could make it so you could hear, said the morl. In the afterlife, you start with the body you had, but I have the power to change it, for it is only dreamstuff. Would you like that?

I kill guards, you make fake ears work?

The morl wrote, Do we have a deal?

***

“I’ve made contact with Jonny,” I said.

Asuana almost spilled her cocoa. “Where is he? What’s happening?”

“The bell tower in the Cathedral of Drymar. He’s pretending to be stupid, and I think the morl is buying it. He doesn’t seem to have Gathered anyone before.”

Asuana nodded, “He’s the youngest of them. We figured he might be the weakest link.”

Just as I was about to respond, the Singer appeared. “I guess it worked,” she said. My jaw dropped because she was wearing almost nothing. “Yes, I know I’m wearing lingerie. I’d tell you all about it, but maybe I can show you…” She closed her eyes.

A moment later, she disappeared, and so did the hearth and bear-skin rug, replaced by a dungeon that made me blush immediately. The Singer wasn’t the only one scantily clad. The Wizard was wearing leather pants that failed to cover his crotch. His chest was bare but adorned with metal clamps on both nipples. He was gagged with some kind of wooden ball. His hands were shackled above his head. The rest of this morl’s flock of ten were dressed in similar ways, no two the same, but almost all gorgeous (the Wizard stuck out as the only one of the ten who wasn’t heart-wrenchingly attractive). Even though I wasn’t really there, I was glad I was wearing the black robes of Father Ori’s flock, both because they were more modest and because they made me feel less self-conscious about how my body was responding to this morl’s version of the afterlife.

A female morl was speaking, “And so, Professor Octavius, I’ll be trading you to one of my youngling soldiers, who will put you into play to help explain things to the students. Listen carefully! What you see now is what I call The Pit. It is a place in my mind. But when you are put into play, you’ll be standing in the bell tower of the Great Academy, surrounded by a team of youngling soliders who will do very painful things to you if you deviate from the script. They’ll be putting one of these on you, a real one,” she said, placing a vice-like clamp onto the Wizard’s genitals and locking it into place with a key. She stepped back to admire the work. “The enchantment on it is a bit like one of those magic cooking pots that the Academy manufactures, except it gets both hot and tight…” (The Wizard screamed as the vice tightened of its own accord.) “…whenever my people tell it to. Or after sixty minutes. So please don’t try anything stupid. Okay?”

The Wizard whimpered and nodded. Then I heard the morl say to someone I couldn’t see, “I hereby trade Otto Octavius to you, my dear youngling.” And then, suddenly, he was gone. The scene changed and the Singer, with her scantily clad fellow Gathered were all floating in the air around a morl who stood with the Wizard next to a giant bell. A sea of shimmers attacked, yanked down his pants, and installed the device.

***

I shuddered and opened my eyes in “real life” (or my real after-life) where I was still clinging to the wall of the shrine, arms wrapped around the panther’s tooth. Where are you, Lilly? I thought. Just as I was wondering if I would ever see her again and what torment she was enduring, I found myself with her.

***

“However, I can assure you,” said the morl, “we aren’t all as cruel as Ori and my mother.”

He was leading Lilly and her father down a city street, the architecture of which I recognized as the style of Seadom. The markets were deserted, and windows were boarded up as if people were awaiting a storm. I could not tell if anyone was in them. Nor could I tell if this was the real Seadom or some kind of vision manufactured by the morl. A few steps behind, the rest of the flock of seven followed in silence. They all wore comfortable, unassuming clothing and seemed relatively bright-eyed. They could have been a tour-group, seeing the city for the first time.

“As you can see,” he said, “I have a small flock myself, and I try my best to return my Gathered to the world. It’s not hard, really. We just need to find a youngling morl, and… well… let me show you.” He snapped his fingers and a shimmer of short stature scampered into view from somewhere. “I need to put one of my Gathered into play,” he told the shimmer.

“I am graced by your presence and that of your flock,” said the young morl. “I will happily give play to your Gathered, my esteemed…” He trailed off as if he had forgotten the line.

“It’s okay,” laughed the older morl. “You don’t have to get it exactly right. It’s the thought that counts. Are you ready?”

“Yes, it would be my honor.” And then, one of the seven Gathered, a girl of about fourteen, disappeared with a flash, reappearing a few seconds later in the place of the young morl, still shimmering, but growing rapidly more coherent.

“There you go,” said the older morl. “You may live out your life, my child. Do it with grace and with dignity. When you die (of old age, I hope!) you’ll be automatically Gathered into our fold once again, and the youngling morl will take things from there. You are free to go.”

Tears brimmed over the girl’s eyelids. “T-thank you,” she managed to say. “B-but where do I go now?”

The morl placed a hand on her cheek, “My sweet girl, I’m afraid I can’t help you anymore. But I conjecture that you are strong and smart. Here, take this.” He handed her a pouch that, by the sound of things, was full of gold coins. “The war will be over soon. For now… find an inn. Always keep a roof over your head. Now go, please. I can’t bear long goodbyes. Go!” And she scampered off down an alleyway, coins jingling.

To Lilly and her father, he said, “You see? The younglings don’t mind at all. They will live for centuries. It is an honor for them to see how a human lives life. He will be with her always, a small voice in her head. And he will be with her to comfort her when she dies, to Gather her lovingly back into his arms.”

I saw a tear form in Lilly’s eyes. I wanted to warn her that this might be a trick, but I didn’t want to distract her. It probably wasn’t easy to focus on sending everything you experience to a volcano on the other side of the map. Just as I realized this couldn’t be real, for it would mean that Ori’s brother had left his post at the Lighthouse to roam a city streets, the morl said, “This is, of course, just a vision.” It faded; leaving them back in the Lighthouse, overlooking the gray seas. “I wanted to illustrate the point, though. Show, don’t tell. That’s my philosophy. The point is, if you help me, I have a legion of youngling soldiers who follow my every order. It’s my goal, you see, to set you both free.”

“And what,” said Torin evenly, “do we need to do to earn this freedom.”

“Ah! I’m glad you asked,” said the morl, getting excited. “I love explaining to humans how we can work together for our mutual benefit. My job here in Seadom is to secure the human printing presses. Over ninety percent of the South Sean Nation’s books are printed in the city of Seadom. It’s a city of poets, writers, and artists. Novels and pamphlets, maps and newsletters, coffee table books and wall art, board games and card games, they all start here and make their way across the South Sea to all the coastal towns and cities. Not to brag, but this was all my plan. I secure Seadom and the presses, my mother secures the Great Academy, her Shoni secures the Drymar and its civic centers. I don’t want to bore you, but there are three pillars that have upheld the South Sea Nations for two hundred years: information, automation, and bureaucracy. Information comes from the presses of Seadom, automation comes from the magic of the Great Academy of Lopesa, and your laws are made by the elected officials that meet in the embassies of Drymar. I believe that if we morls take a more hands-on role with these three endeavors, we could build a truly great society, one where the Gatherings and the after-life become part and parcel of a beautiful human/morl symbiosis. I’ve written an entire thesis on the matter, actually. I’ll give you a copy when I set you both free.”

“Truly incredible,” said Torin.

“Yes,” said Lilly. “You are… wow. I don’t even know what to say.”

“Thank you for saying that,” said the morl. “It’s nice to be appreciated.”

Looking down from the Lighthouse window, Torin said, “I see corpses of the Sisters of the Lighthouse in the courtyard. Would a zombie army be a good start?”

“Can zombies swim?” asked the morl.

“Of course,” said Torin.

“I was worried,” said the morl, “that after being in my brother’s flock, you’d be dead inside, but you are both… as young Lilly Overlai says… wow. I can already tell it’ll be a pleasure working with you.”

Lilly linked arms with her father and said (a little too convincingly for my comfort), “Me too!” Together, father and daughter gazed out the window, black silhouettes against the gray doomsday clouds.

***

The pictures were coming quickly to me now.

I’ll need you to drink this, wrote the morl to Jonny. For insurance. Instead of giving the cup to Jonny, he gave it to a morl who had been waiting nearby, unseen. There were several, actually, a small battalion. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be armed with swords. Or maybe axes? The weapons shimmered as if they were made of morl-stuff. Even here in the vision seen through Jonny’s eyes, I got a headache whenever I looked too long into the shimmers.

What’s inside? Jonny said.

It will kill your body after one hour, the morl wrote. But do not fear.

Gathered back? Jonny said.

You are truly more intelligent than anyone gave you credit for. The morl took a deep breath. I thought I heard a tremble of fear in the exhale. Okay, here goes. Then he said aloud, “I hereby consent to trade Jonny of Davenport.” When nothing happened, the morl explained, I’m trying to trade you. It’s… not something I’ve practiced. More waiting. I thought I could hear the sounds of straining, as if the morl were mildly constipated. Almost… wrote the morl, panting now from exertion.

Then suddenly, Jonny’s simulated body disappeared from where he stood and reappeared in the place of a morl beside the one carrying the cup. The rest happened in complete silence, for I experienced only what the Jonny did. First, Jonny’s fist connected with something in the shimmers, sending the cup flying, drops twinkling in the soft light of the stained glass windows. Then, another morl tried to swing his sword, but Jonny grabbed him by the arm and threw him into the stained glass. Colors exploded outward. The morl fell (presumably screaming) to the city below, but I could not hear, for I experienced only what Jonny did.

I didn’t see how, but Jonny ended up with a morl sword (or maybe axe?), a shimmering mass in his hands. He swiped it back and forth like a man hacking a trail through underbrush. Within moments, the walls were shimmering and warped with the morl blood that bathed it.

Finally, when the battalion of morls was hewn down, Jonny wheeled on Shoni. Instead of killing him with the sword, he grabbed him by the neck with one giant hand and grinned. Then he shoved the struggling morl through the open window, suspending him above the city below. There was presumably screaming and choking, perhaps some pleading. I could hear none of it.

Jonny said one-handed, in sign language, Who’s stupid now? But the morl could not respond, for Jonny had left the morl’s mind, where dreamstuffs could be formed into floating words. With a grin, Jonny dropped Shoni into the tiny city far below. I was stunned into silence, watching (for the second time in the last few minutes) the silhouette of one of my former companions against a tower window.

Finally, I tried communicating, Um, nice job?

Jonny turned, wind blowing his blond hair, and signed, Who’s stupid now? I could understand him somehow. Slowly, his grin began to fade, replaced by a contemplative expression that I had never seen before. Have body back, he said, pinching his arm. Have powers back?

This is perfect, I said. Wait here, I’ll tell Asuana.

But when I thought of Asuana’s name, Jonny cocked his head, and then Asuana was there, before I could do anything. Found her, I heard Jonny say. The man was still strangely grinless.

Jonny, said Asuana’s voice in my head, this is… incredible. If the legends are true, your powers are magnified while you stand in a node of the communication network. Anything you could do before, you can now do… across the entire South Sea Nations. Do you understand, Jonny? Everywhere.

A twitch of annoyance flickered across Jonny’s face. He signed, and I heard, Everyone thinks Jonny is stupid. Morls think Jonny is stupid. Humans think Jonny is stupid. Then he grinned in a way that made my stomach clench in fear, But Jonny is not stupid.

I felt a silent boom move through my body, and a moment later, I saw a mushroom-like cloud rise up behind Jonny’s silhouette in the window. I rushed to the window and looked down to see a crater amidst the swath of the city below. Adobe buildings on the edge of the crater had been shattered like egg-shells. People ran like ants.

That was the political district, I think I said. Where all the embassies are.

Were, said Asuana, never taking her eyes off of Jonny. Jonny, the morls are the enemy. We—

But with a wave of Jonny’s hand, she was gone, leaving only me standing there.

Umm, I said, we should probably listen to what she has to say…

She has a mission, said Jonny. Morls have missions. But Jonny has a mission too.

What’s the m— Before I could finish the words, I found myself in a dream with Jonny. The colors were back: the grays of Lady Catherine’s face, the black of her dress and the coffin in which she lay, the green of the grass on the ground in which she was about to be laid to rest. Around me, the congregation wore black, but unlike the first time I had seen this, I noticed them whispering to each other, and smirking. Though I could not hear what they were saying, I felt the rage in Jonny’s chest as if it were my own.

Jonny rose, and suddenly, one of the people (a cook named Meechup, I somehow knew) exploded into flames. As some ran in confusion, someone tackled Jonny from behind. Several more piled on, and a moment later, everything went black.

When Jonny woke, he wondered if he was dead, wondered if Lady Catherine’s people had killed him, just as they had killed her. But when he blinked he saw that he was looking at the canopy of a forest at night. The branches flickered in the light of a campfire. His head hurt when he sat up, and at first it seemed he was alone. But no… there was a morl on the other side of the fire. Jonny noticed him when he handed over a piece of paper.

It read, Jonny of Davenport, I am a morlish operative that has been watching you for some time now. If I hadn’t caused a distraction at the right moment, the people of Davenport would no doubt have killed you for what you did to Meechup. Yes, you are right to suspect them, though, for they did attempt to poison Lady Catherine. Davenport is like many of the small towns in the South Sea Nations, dependent on their local alumni from the Great Academy. When Lady Catherine fell ill and became slow in providing services, they arranged to receive a new alum more quickly. You could, if you wish, return to Davenport and hunt down the ones responsible, but may I make a suggestion? There is a shrine to the north. Lady Catherine always fancied going there herself. Perhaps, if you went, you could see her again. I have reason to believe that her soul was “Gathered,” by one of my kind, just before her death by poison. And I have reason to believe that if you go to the shrine, one of my kind will provide instructions about how you might see her again. Just a thought. -A Morlish Friend

When Jonny looked up, the morl was gone. He cast the note into the flames and watched it burn, smoldering like the heat I could feel in his chest. Then I blinked and was back in the tower, watching Jonny grin as he said, Jonny is not stupid.

I know, I said. I—

Jonny knows which way Davenport is, he signed, then pointed out the far window, one that looked out across the South Sea. I too knew which way Davenport lay, having shored there at least twice.

That seems right, I said. But—

Jonny made a sudden movement with his hand, much like the one he had just made before blowing up the Embassy Quarter. I looked out across the South Sea. There was nothing but ocean.

What did you do? I said.

Jonny only grinned wider than ever, flicked his hand, and I was no longer there.

***

The first thing I noticed was Gwen Florence, wearing very little, and hovering with several other scantily clad members of her fellow Gathered. You need to hear this, she said. Stop looking at me and pay attention.

I noticed Professor Octavius in his usual blue robe, silhouetted against a window. This tower, shorter than the ones in Drymar and Seadom, surveyed a grassy courtyard filled with people who, judging by their youth and blue robes, must be students of the academy.

Octavius wasn’t speaking, but he was clearing his throat and looking at a stack of papers, leafing from page to page. The students below looked up expectantly.

“Students of the academy…” Octavius read.

“Louder,” hissed the Ori’s mother. “I wrote exclamation points for a reason. Obey them, or I shall activate the device.”

Gulping, Octavius read, shouting, “Students of the academy! You no doubt have many questions. Do not worry! I am here to answer them! First, I am happy to announce that our humble Academy will be undergoing some exciting changes! This coincides with the peaceful shifting of power currently underway in Drymar, where, even now, morls and humans are working together to draft documents that define a new Morl/Human Nation, one with a unified government, shared resources, and integrated populace. It also coincides with a similarly peaceful negotiation underway in Seadom, one that will more clearly define the trade routes of the Morl/Human Nation. Naturally, the Great Academy will undergo some corresponding changes. I would be happy to outline the Great Academy’s new curriculum and research directions, but first, I am sure you have questions after the events of the last few weeks. Please! Ask them! Ask me anything!”

A sea of hands went up. “Call on them,” hissed the morl.

“Yes, in the front,” said Octavius. “Margie of Pickenport, isn’t it? You were in my course on the Political Necessity of Magical Automation, weren’t you?”

“What happened to Acting Headmaster Borin?” demanded Margie. “And when did you get back from your sabbatical?”

“Page seven,” hissed the morl. “Paragraph twelve. Don’t forget the exclamations.”

Octavius flipped to page seven and read, “Acting Headmaster Borin has stepped down from the position to which he was temporarily appointed when I ventured forth on my quest to research the ancient archaeology of the northern shrine. But do not worry! In the new Great Academy, there shall be no headmaster position at all! In place of it, we will be instituting a new student government. And you…” The wizard trailed off and glanced sidelong at the morl.

“The blank means fill in her name,” hissed the morl. “Don’t be an idiot.”

“And you, Margie of Pickenport, would make an excellent student-body president, if I do say so myself! We’ll hold elections in the coming week!” Another hand shot up. “Yes, Rosin du Florence?”

“Where are the rest of the professors?” said Rosin.

“Page seven,” hissed the morl. “Paragraph twenty nine.”

“You have all learned of the so-called ‘Morl Invasion’ in your history classes,” read Octavius. “Many of the professors here actually lived through it. Regrettably, when they received word of the new peaceful entourage, the faculty took the precaution of leaving the academy and going into hiding. Quite silly! Do not worry, they will be found and returned to the Academy in short order. A large morlish peace-keeping force is, even now, traveling over the Morl Mountains and will help assist with matters such as these. It’s easy to see how someone might mistake this force for an invasion, but I assure you, it is not.”

Another hand.

“Yes, Samm of Davenport?”

“What’s that mushroom cloud to the south?” asked Samm. “It looks like it’s coming from Davenport.”

I noticed that a large brown mushroom was blooming on the horizon, mixing in with the gray clouds.

“Tell them it’s nothing,” hissed the morl.

“Oh, it’s nothing…” said Professor Octavius.

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” said Margie, crossing her arms. The rest of the students murmured in agreement.

“Don’t just repeat what I say,” hissed the morl. “Paraphrase!”

“What I mean,” said Octavius, “is that it’s nothing to worry about. It’s something we will be looking into.”

“Move on to page twelve,” hissed the morl.

“Now!” said Octavius. “It is my pleasure to announce the new research priorities of the Great Academy! With an integrated populace, the Morl/Human Nation will need to produce twice as much food from the same amount of farmland. So the Morl/Human government of Drymar will be funding the honing of any and all magical gifts pertaining to the automation of agricultural equipment, processes, and procedures. Our goal is to double the Academy’s exports of automated cooking pots, self-driving plows, meat curing boxes, tobacco and cotton pickers, and the like. We will also be conducting research into new magical technologies to assist with our international goal of doubling agricultural yield. No pun intended, but we will be ‘bringing back to life’ any and all research pertaining to the use of necromancy to compel the dead to power farm equipment. How exciting!”

“Wasn’t Former Headmaster Thanata kicked out of the academy for necromantic agricultural research,” demanded Margie. “You taught us about it in Magical Ethics. I had to write an essay on it. You gave me a B+.”

“Page forty-nine,” hissed the morl.

Octavius flipped frantically to the page. “Yes, you’re right, Margie of Pickenport!” read Octavius. “But I’m happy to announce that Torin Thanata may return as a guest lecturer in short order to help explain the Academy’s new ethical stance on the matter. Furthermore, the Academy will be performing a round of brand-new assessments in the coming weeks, to determine if any of you possess any necromantic gifts. The ban on necromancy has officially been lifted! I hope you are as excited about this historic moment as I am! We shall push the boundaries of human knowledge!”

As my mind drifted to Torin Thanata, I realized I could hear Lilly’s voice in my head. Nial? Where the hell are you? Where’s Asuana?

***

It was getting easier: I appeared in the Seadom Lighthouse simply by thinking about it.

Torin Thanata stood at the window, looking out and waving his hands in an intricate dance. Lilly stood beside him but was looking meaningfully at me while the morl who had Gathered her droned on, “… I’ve always been surprised myself at just how much you humans have been anti-necromancy, historically speaking…”

He played my father into a youngling, said Lilly. And… look…

I joined Lilly at the window, glancing with trepidation at the morl. But he droned on, unable to see me, for I was merely Lilly’s dreamstuff. From the window, I saw, in the distance to the north east, a brown mushroom cloud in the direction of Davenport.

Not that, said Lilly, Look down.

The bay was frothing with swimmers, hundreds of them. I winced, realizing that these were not living people.

He’s been at it since you left, she said. He’s raised them from every graveyard in the city.

They were moving slowly, but steadily, using a strange, jerking stroke. I couldn’t tell if they were floating of their own accord, as the bodies of the dead often do, or if buoyancy too was part of Torin Thanata’s spell. It was plain to see that the swimmers were heading for the six warships floating in the bay, each flying the three flags of the South Sea Nations.

“…but I suppose necromancy is different from the Gathering in some philosophical ways. We morls Gather human minds, but the necromantic gifts reanimate human bodies…”

“Actually,” said Thanata, jovially, as if he had no trouble commanding a zombie army while carrying on a conversation about it, “there are two categories of necromantic gifts. I happen to have both. The first, as you mentioned, is reanimation, which allows me to create zombies that can perform various human-like tasks as long as I am concentrating on the commands. It is my mind controlling their bodies. The fresher the body, the more intact the brain, the more complex my commands can be. I’ve managed to preserve over forty percent of brain function in some subjects, even allowing them to carry on short conversations, sometimes passing as living people. Before your brother killed me, I was experimenting with the preservation of magical gifts in my undead subjects, but I never could get it quite right.”

“Incredible!” said the morl. “And I conjecture that the other category of necromantic gifts is such that you attach a stray soul to, say, a machine, like farm equipment. A dead mind in a new ‘body’ so to speak.”

“I call it binding,” said Torin Thanata. “Yes, during death, the mind and body become detached. Some call the detached part a ‘soul’, but I always used the term ‘mind’ in my classes… before I was exiled. The mind, I suspect, is what you morls Gather. But we with the binding gifts can also bind a mind to a new body, in the form of a machine. We can then compel the mind to perform certain tasks, such as moving a plow, or operating a cotton picker.”

“Fascinating!” said the morl. It gave me nausea to watch how well these two were getting along. And from the look on Lilly’s face, she was having a similar feeling. No doubt this was far from the happy ending she had pictured when she first ventured forth to find her father. “I have always wondered,” continued the morl, “how do you compel them? We morls have years of schooling to learn how to manipulate our flocks, and there are as many views of thought on the matter as there are morls. My brother, for example, swears by his system of reward and punishment. My mother has her own… unique style. I have always felt that the best motivation is simply to promise minds what they truly want, which is to return to a body once again. Whether human or morl, the soul yearns to live forever. But the machines you sold under Overlai Tobacco, they worked perfectly, and without constant prodding.”

“It’s an art,” said Thanata. “Certain buttons on the machine can be used to cause conditional pain to the mind inside. Press the red button and the mind is in pain if it does not move forward. Press the blue button and the mind is in pain if it does not pick the cotton. Switch the machine off and the mind is in pain unless it ceases to work. Perhaps the governing principle is much like Father Ori’s system. Minus the reward.”

“Ah,” said the morl. “I see now why there were ethical concerns among the Great Academy’s faculty.”

Thanata stopped moving his hands and glared at the morl. Meanwhile, I could see the swimmers ceasing to swim, floating in the choppy waves. “Some souls deserve it,” said Thanata quietly.

“Yes, yes, of course!” said the morl. “I didn’t mean to imply they didn’t. In fact, if all goes well, you’ll have your place back at the Academy. Before the end of the week, in fact!”

Thanata eyed the morl for a few more seconds then resumed the spell. The swimmers had reached the ships, which, I now saw were in the process of throwing ropes and floatation devices overboard. The swimmers began to climb the ropes with surprising speed. When they reached the deck, the sailors’ screams were audible even at this distance, carried by the salty wind coming off the bay.

Nial, said Lilly, who to my surprise had tears brimming. We need to stop this. I once made a vow to bring my father home. And I made you a vow too. I want to keep that second promise. Will you help me?

I nodded.

Then go to Asuana. If she has a plan to stop all this, help her do it. I’ll try to delay my father.

With my eyes, I made my vow to Lilly once again, and this time, I knew that nothing could stop our love. From her eyes, I knew she knew it too.