Warsinger by James Baldwin (most important books of all time txt) 📕

Suri swallowed, then peeled her hand back. Something about this creature terrified her - maybe because it had a passing resemblance to Nicolas, maybe for some other reason she hadn't told me. She forced herself to look down at the huge corpse, eyes wide and black. Once she started to stare, she struggled to tear her eyes away. Eventually, she did. She looked back to me.

“I know what you're doing,” she said hoarsely. “I know the same mind trick. Don't know where I learned it. Maybe my previous life. You see something that scares you... you look at it. Then you look at a photo of someone or something you love. Your mum. Your pet or your baby or whatever. Start associating the bad thing with a good thing.”

“Yeah,” I said softly. “Helps you get over the hump.”

Her throat worked. “Guess they taught the same trick to soldiers in the Pacific Alliance.”

Karalti crooned softly as Suri brought her breathing under control, looking down at the corpse, then back to us. As she did, she calmed... and by the time it pixelated and left its loot bag, she looked better. Steadier.

“I can't afford to ever do that again.” She shook her head again, nostrils flaring. “You guys alright?”

“Yeah, we're fine.” I handed Karalti a potion. “The spooky Sachara over-voice sounds kind of ominous. Something about a final trial.”

“Yeah...” Suri sniffed, and turned her attention to the displays of weapons in the eaves. “The scimitars, right?”

“Yeah. Withering Rose had a pair of scimitars in all the paintings I've seen of her,” I said. “But hang on a second. This whole clusterfuck is a test, right? The answer can't be that obvious.”

Suri considered the weapons on display: the swords, axes, spears, and whips. “No. It's not.”

We watched as she trudged over to make her selection from the display stands. As soon as they were removed, the other weapons dissolved into a shower of golden light.

“Bugger. I'd hoped we could have snagged those axes.” Suri clicked her tongue. “Well, you guys take whatever's in the loot bag. I didn't do a fucking thing other than fall over.”

“Sure. Just… try not to be too hard on yourself, alright?” As Suri headed for the door, I went and checked the loot.

●       Draft of Ogre's Strength

●       Rostori Blood

●       Rostori Horn

●       Lambidium Scrap

●       Amethyst x 4

●       Ancient Golden Coin x 500

“Not bad.” I pocketed it all, and followed Karalti as she padded out behind Suri.

Wasps weren't known for their attention spans, and by the time we made our way back through the hive and nursery, they had long since returned to their instinctual job of sandworm murder. They completely ignored us, and we reached the statues of the Warsingers without further incident. The statues seemed to track us with their glowing eyes as Suri mounted the dais and placed her selections into Withering Rose's hands: the hammer and the level.

“You have chosen wisely,” Sachara's said, warm with approval. “And if you pass the Trial of the Warsinger and enter my sanctum, remember this: the power we hold as Warsingers is dazzling, but when the time comes and peace reigns over your land once more, know when to step out of the Heart of Knives. Resign the Triad and trade your sword for the hammer. A thousand years hence, no one will remember who you slay... only what you build once the ashes of war have settled.”

The massive doors unlocked with a deep crunch, the sound of huge bolts pulling back into the steel frames. We came around the statue as the doors swung inward, revealing a square black marble room. They came to rest with a rolling boom.

“Go now,” Sachara urged. “Go and meet your final trial. A test of your ability… and your patience.”

Chapter 52

A rectangular frame of lambidium enclosed an arena in the next room, where a small, lone figure sat cross-legged on the floor. Superficially, it resembled a Mercurion, with hard pearly skin of pure white. It sat in the lotus position, its long milky hair spread out across the black floor around it. It wore a featureless polished black mask with no nose and no eyes, just a straight beveled edge down the center. It was slim, with a subtly feminine figure… but no clothing and no armor, other than its mask.

The black noise from the Rostori Brute and the pulsing white light from the Warsinger statues danced around the meditative figure in a figure eight as we walked forward. I felt - and saw - the doors behind us slowly swing shut.

Suri drew a deep breath. “Hang back, you two.”

“Hang back?” I eyed the Mercurion dubiously. It was as still as a doll. No breathing. No motion, other than the spheres.

“Yeah.” Suri pulled her sword around. “You heard what Sachara said. This is the Trial of the Warsinger. I have to fight her alone.”

Karalti whined. “I don't know if that's a good idea.”

“Me either,” I said. “Let us help you.”

Suri looked back at us over her shoulder, one hand resting on the hilt of her sword. “The Trial of Marantha was your Trial. This one's mine. Besides... I don't think it'll let you help me, even if I wanted you to.”

As we got close to the line of lambidium set into the floor, I saw she was right. We got within a foot of it before a forcefield sprung up: a field that barred Karalti and I, but let Suri pass through unimpeded. As she did, the twin lights stopped circling the Mercurion, and sunk down into its body.

Her fingers twitched in her lap.

Suri bared her teeth and charged in, hoping to get an early shot. But as she brought her sword down, the Mercurion teleported to the side with blinding speed, reappearing on her feet. Suri's sword hit marble, sending splinters flying, while the