Casket of Souls

it aside. Not yet, but soon. Reaching into the box he selected a piece at random. It was a cheap brass brooch set with jade, given to him by an old merchant’s wife back in their Basket Street days. He’d only kept it because it was rich with life. Reaching for his tools, he set to work prying one of the jades loose.
    He grinned to himself as he began the procedure again. After all, who’d notice the death of a nobody like that? When it was finished he gulped it down and moaned aloud at the renewed hit of sensation. The lantern light seemed to swell around him, filling the chamber with a swirling golden cloud. He could feel his pulse moving in every inch of his body, and the pounding of his heart sounded like the thunder of the surf crashing against the shore. It hadn’t been like this for a long time, too long, with Brader’s insistence on austerity and caution.
    When the euphoria began to fade, he found himself clutching two more empty phials, each made from the item of a slum child. He must have pulled them from the rack and opened them while caught up in the glow of the second elixir. His skin was tingling, his muscles twitching against his long bones, hand shaking as he placed the last three phials in the rack.
    Be careful!
a small, sane voice whispered to him as the elixir’s effects lingered on.
You know what can happen if you get too greedy
.
    Squatting down, he buried his hands in the jewels, watching the waving glow that surrounded them, a veritable carpet of life threads. Under the elixir’s influence, he could see them even better, see how they extended to fill the room, waving like sea grass under the swells. Lifting a handful of the jewels, he pressed them to his face to cool it. Precious jewels, indeed. So precious.
    Just one more … Just one more …
    Shaking now, he went to the rack and pulled out a labeled elixir, one of the “special vintages” as he thought of them, made from the soul of a disgraced, very drunk soldier he’d met in the Ring. It wasn’t labeled; he hadn’t bothered to ask when he traded him a lucky “dragon’s tooth” for the tiny military charm soaking inside this phial. Such life and experience! Oh, this one would be fine. He cracked the seal and sucked down the bitter contents, then let out a cry as the concentrated, properly aged elixir struck his belly and mind. Colors wheeled around him, and snatches of beautiful music. He saw faces, felt the touch of hands upon his skin, the shuddering exultation of orgasms compounded by time, and life. So much life!
    He came to lying on the floor next to the open jewel casket with no sense of how much time had passed. For all he knew, it could have been hours, or days. That was one of the dangers of overdoing things, but even now he felt the same old whisper of need.
    Just one more …
    No matter how many he drank, he was never quite sated, and he knew better than anyone living that drinking the powerful ones only made it worse. But he lacked Brader’s ability to deny himself the pleasure of excess.
    Staggering to his feet, he pulled the parchment label from Laneus’s chain and fixed it to the empty phial with a few drops of wax. It pleased him to keep the empty bottles labeled until he needed them again, trophies to gloat over. He slid it in beside the empty one bearing Lady Kylith’s name and took off the bone necklace. Brader would be able to tell what he’d done, and he’d have to wear a little more cosmetic to keep the others from noticing, but ah, it had been worth it! He hadn’t indulged himself like this in months.
    Reeling a little, he put the room back in order, avoiding looking at the racks and their still-enticing contents.

 
    T HE following morning Seregil woke to an insistent knock on the bedchamber door. Sliding out from under Alec’s arm, he pulled on his dressing gown and went to answer it.
    “Forgive me for waking you, my lord,” said Runcer. “Lord Thero is downstairs and is most insistent that you and Lord Alec come down.”
    “I see. Tell him we’re on our way.”
    “What is it?” Alec mumbled from the bed.
    “Thero’s here.”
    “Again?”
    They found the wizard walking at the back of the garden, near Alec’s targets.
    Thero took in their bare feet and dressing gowns with a frown as they joined him. “It’s nearly noon, you know.”
    “We were out spying for you. What’s wrong that a message wouldn’t do?” Seregil asked with a yawn.
    “What did you do to Laneus last