The Lake of Souls (20 page)

“But I didn’t know … that I used to be Kurda!” Harkat protested.

“Deep down you did,” Mr. Tiny disagreed. “Since I had to return your soul to the past, I had to hide the truth of your identity from you — if you’d known who you were, you might have tried to directly interfere with the course of the future. But on a subconscious level, you knew. That’s why you fought so bravely beside Darren, risking your life for his on numerous occasions.”

I thought about that in silence for a long while, as did Harkat and Kurda. Time travel was a difficult concept to get my head around, but if I overlooked the paradox of being able to send a soul from the future into the past to alter the present — and didn’t question how it was achieved — I could see the logic. Kurda had betrayed the vampires. Ashamed, his soul remained bound to Earth. Mr. Tiny offered him the chance of redemption — by returning to life as a Little Person, he could make amends for his foul deeds.

“There’s something I don’t understand,” Kurda said, then winced. “Actually, there’s lots I don’t understand, but one thing in particular. My plan to betray the vampires would have succeeded if Darren hadn’t interfered. But you say Darren would have died without my aid as Harkat Mulds. So, in effect, I helped Darren mastermind my own downfall!”

Mr. Tiny shook his head. “You would have perished regardless of the outcome. Your death was never in question — merely the manner of it.”

“What puzzles
me
the most,” Harkat muttered, “is how … the two of us can be here at the same … time. If I’m Kurda and he’s … me, how can we exist together?”

“Harkat’s wiser than he looks,” Mr. Tiny noted with a chuckle. “The answer is that you
can’t
— at least, not for very long. While Kurda remained in the Lake of Souls, Harkat was free to roam the world. Now that Kurda has emerged, one must make way for the other.”

“What do you mean?” I asked sharply.

“Kurda and Harkat share the same soul,” Mr. Tiny explained, “but while a soul can be split, it can only lay claim to one body at any given time — although there
are
ways to protect a newly formed body for a while if you send it into the past, which is how Harkat was previously able to function at the same time as Kurda. As the original, Kurda has a natural claim to existence. Even now, the strands of Harkat’s form are unraveling. Within a day his body will dissolve, releasing his share of their soul. A split soul can never be rejoined –– Harkat and Kurda are two different people Since this is the case, Harkat’s half of their soul must depart this world. It’s nature’s way.”

“You mean Harkat’s going to die?” I yelled.

“He’s dead already.” Mr. Tiny chuckled.

“Stop splitting hairs!” I growled. “Will Harkat perish if we stay here?”

“He’ll perish wherever you are,” Mr. Tiny replied. “Now that Kurda’s soul has been given form, only he has the power to spare Harkat’s body.”

“If I can save Harkat, I will,” Kurda said immediately.

“Even if it costs you your own newly restored life?” Mr. Tiny asked slyly.

Kurda stiffened. “What are you talking about?”

Mr. Tiny stood and stretched. “There’s much I can’t tell you,” he said. “But I’ll explain as best I can. There are two ways in which I can create a Little Person — from a soul’s resurrected body — the one which forms when a person is fished from the Lake of Souls — or from their corpse. With Harkat, I used Kurda’s original remains.”

“But Kurda’s body was burned to ashes,” I interrupted.

“No,” Mr. Tiny said. “When I decided to use Kurda’s soul, I returned to the time of his death and convinced the Guardians of the Blood to switch his body with another’s. I used Kurda’s bones to make Harkat. The deal I then made with him was that in return for his new body, he’d travel with Darren and protect him, and later, if he did as instructed, I’d free his soul — he wouldn’t have to return to the Lake.

“Well, Harkat has performed admirably and is most deserving of his reward. If Kurda chooses, he can walk away a free man now. He can live out the rest of his renewed life, however long or short that proves to be. Harkat’s body will fall apart, his soul will be freed, and I’ll have upheld my end of the bargain.”

“To live again!” Kurda whispered, eyes bright.

“Or,”
Mr. Tiny added with cruel relish, “we can strike a new deal and Kurda can sacrifice himself.”

Kurda’s eyes narrowed. “Why would I do that?” he snapped.

“You and Harkat share a soul, but it’s a soul that I have helped divide into two parts. If you let me destroy your new body, your part of your shared spirit will depart this realm instead of Harkat’s. Harkat will become your soul’s sole physical vessel. I can’t guarantee him immunity from the Lake of Souls in that case, but he may return home with Darren and live out his life. His future will be his own — if he lives a good life and dies well, the Lake will have no claim on him.”

“That’s a despicable choice to present me with,” Kurda growled.

“I don’t make the laws,” Mr. Tiny shrugged. “I just obey them. One of you can live — the other must bid farewell to life. I could make the call and just kill one of you, but wouldn’t you rather decide for yourselves?”

“I suppose,” Kurda sighed, then looked at Harkat and grinned. “No offense, but if we were to decide on the basis of good looks, I’d win hands down.”

“And if we judged it… on loyalty,” Harkat responded, “I would win, since I have … never betrayed my friends.”

Kurda grimaced. “Would you want to live?” he asked Harkat. “The Lake is a hellish place. Mr. Tiny’s offering you a guaranteed escape. Maybe you want to take it?”

“No,” Harkat said. “I don’t want to let go … of life. I’d rather go back with Darren and take my chances.”

Kurda looked at me. “What do you think, Darren?” he asked softly. “Should I grant Harkat life or set his soul free?”

I started to answer but Harkat cut in. “Darren has nothing to do … with this. Much of my memory —
your
… memory — is returning. A lot is clear now. I know you the same way I… know myself. You always went your own way … even to the point of betraying your people … when you thought it was for their best. Be the man in death that… you were in life. Decide for yourself.”

“He put that quite well,” Mr. Tiny murmured.

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Kurda agreed, grinning sickly. Standing, he turned in a complete, slow circle, studying the dark world beyond the light of the fire, thinking deeply. Then he sighed and faced Mr. Tiny. “I’ve had my fill of life. I made my choices and accepted the consequences. This is Harkat’s time. I belong to death — let it have me.”

Mr. Tiny smiled strangely, almost warmly. “Your decision makes no sense to me but I admire you for it. I promise your death will be swift and painless, and your departure for whatever glories or terrors that lie beyond will be instant.”

Mr. Tiny stepped over to the arched doorway. He held up his heart-shaped watch and it glowed a deep red color. Within seconds the doorway and the small man’s face were glowing too. “Through you go, boys — the home fires are burning and your friends are waiting.”

“Not yet!” I shouted. “I want to know where we are and how Evanna got here and why you stocked that kitchen underground and where the dragons came from and why —”

“Your questions must wait,” Mr. Tiny stopped me. His face was glowing red and he looked more frightening than anything we’d faced during the course of our journey. “Go now, or I’ll leave you here to the dragons.”

“You wouldn’t!” I snorted, but I was in no position to call his bluff. Walking to the doorway, followed by Harkat, I stopped and gazed back at Kurda Smahlt, about to face death for the second time. There was so much I wanted to say to him, so much I wanted to ask him. But there was no time. “Thank you,” I whispered simply.

“Yes — thank you,” Harkat added.

“What’s a life between friends?” Kurda laughed, then grew serious. “Make it count. Lead a good life, so you’ll have no regrets when you die. That way your soul will fly free, and you won’t be at the beck and call of meddlers like Desmond Tiny.”

“If not for we meddlers, who would hold the fabric of the universe together?” Mr. Tiny countered. Then, before we could pursue the conversation any further, he barked, “You must go now — or stay forever!”

“Goodbye, Kurda,” Harkat said numbly.

“Farewell,
Sire
,” I saluted him.

Kurda didn’t answer, just waved shortly and turned his head aside. I think he was crying. And then, leaving many questions unanswered, but having successfully achieved what we set out to, Harkat and I turned away from the living corpse, the Lake of Souls, the dragons, the Grotesque, and other creatures of this twisted place, and walked through the glowing doorway, back to the world of our own.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

M
R.
T
ALL WAS WAITING FOR US
when we stepped through the doorway, standing beside a fire much like the one we’d left behind, close to the vans and tents of the Cirque Du Freak, but separated from the campsite by a row of trees. His small mouth was stretched into a smile as he stepped forward to shake our hands. “Hello, Darren. Hello, Harkat. I’m delighted about your safe return.”

“Hello, Hibernius,” Harkat greeted the Cirque owner — it was the first time he’d ever called him that.

“Ah!” Mr. Tall beamed. “Your mission was a success — as Kurda, you always called me Hibernius.”

“Good to see you again … old friend,” Harkat said. His voice hadn’t changed, but he somehow sounded different.

As we sat around the fire, I asked where our other friends were. Mr. Tall told us most were sleeping — it was late and everyone was tired after that night’s performance.

“I’ve known for the last week that you were due to return — if you managed to make it back alive — but I wasn’t sure of the exact date. I’ve been making a fire and waiting beside it for several nights. I could wake the others, but it would be better to wait and announce your return in the morning.”

We agreed to let our friends slumber. Harkat and I began telling Mr. Tall about our adventures in the mysterious world through the glowing doorway (which crumbled to ash shortly after we stepped through). Mr. Tall was fascinated and listened in rapt silence, asking virtually no questions. We only meant to tell him the highlights — and save the majority of the tale for when we had more listeners — but once we started, we couldn’t stop, and over the next few hours we told him all that had happened. The only time he interrupted was when we mentioned Evanna — he stopped us there and asked a lot of questions about her.

There was a long silence at the end, as the three of us stared into the dying embers of the fire and thought about our battles and narrow escapes, the fate of the deranged Spits Abrams, the wondrous dragons, the great revelation and Kurda’s unenviable choice.

“Will Mr. Tiny really kill Kurda?” I asked after a while.

Mr. Tall nodded sadly. “A soul can divide but it cannot share two bodies. But Kurda made the right choice — Harkat will remember most of what Kurda experienced while alive, and in that way Kurda will live on. Had Kurda chosen life, all of Harkat’s memories would have been lost to the world. This way they both win.”

“A cheery thought to end on,” Harkat said, smiling. He yawned and stared up at the moon. “How much time has passed since … we were away?”

“Time has been the same for us as for you,” Mr. Tall said. “Some three months have slipped by. It is summer now.”

“Any news about the War of the Scars?” I asked.

“None,” Mr. Tall said shortly.

“I hope Debbie and Alice reached Vampire Mountain,” I muttered. During my months away, I’d only rarely stopped to wonder what was happening back home. Now I was anxious to catch up on all that I had missed.

“I wouldn’t trouble myself if I were you,” Mr. Tall said, seeing the questions in my eyes. “This is where you and Harkat are meant to be right now. The War of the Scars will find you again when destiny decrees. For the time being, relax and enjoy this calm between the storms.”

Mr. Tall stood and smiled at us. “I’ll leave you now. Get as much sleep as you need — I’ll see that you are not disturbed.” As he turned to leave, he paused and glanced back at Harkat. “It would be wise to wear your mask again, now that the air is no longer safe.”

“Oh!” Harkat gasped. “I forgot!” Digging out a mask, he tied it around his mouth, breathed through it a few times to make sure there weren’t any rips, then lowered it so that he could speak clearly. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” the tall man chuckled.

“Mr. Tall,” I said quietly, as he turned to leave again. “Do you know where we were? Was that world a different planet, the past, an alternate reality?”

The Cirque owner said nothing and didn’t look back — just shook his head and hurried on toward the camp.

“He knows,” I sighed. “But he won’t tell.”

Harkat grunted. “Did you bring anything … back with you?” he asked.

“Only my clothes,” I said. “And I don’t plan on hanging on to these rags — they can go straight in the trash!”

Harkat smiled, then rifled through his robes. “I still have the postcards I took … from the underground kitchen, as well as … the panther’s teeth.” He spilled the teeth onto the grass and turned them so all the letters were face up. He idly began arranging them to form his name, but as he got to the end of “Harkat,” he stopped, quickly scanned all the teeth, and groaned.

“What’s wrong?” I asked sharply.

“Remember Mr. Tiny saying at the … start that we’d find a clue to who I was … when we killed the panther?” Harkat quickly rearranged the letters on the teeth to form another name —
KURD A SMAHLT!

I stared at the letters, then groaned like Harkat had. “The answer was in front of us all along — your name’s an anagram! If we’d spent more time on the letters after we’d killed the panther, we could have solved the puzzle and skipped the rest of the ordeal!”

“I doubt it would have been … that simple,” Harkat laughed. “But at least I now know where … my name came from. I used to wonder … how I’d picked it.”