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Guided only by the full moonlight, the young woman trudged the overgrown path of twisted branches and weeds. Last night, the dream had felt so vivid. She met a man with the eyes of a snake which led her down the same route. He spoke no words and never looked back to see if the young woman was behind, she understood she only needed to follow. Finally, she reached the forest clearing surrounded by a cluster of bamboo trees. At the center was a magnificent mountain banyan. The branches sprouted out in all directions and the roots ensnared a smooth stone structure covered in moss and earth. The young woman searched the base and located the remains of an altar. Shattered clay, decayed incense burners, and petrified ash littered a hole within the stone structure—a half-rotten wooden box lay buried among the rubble. The one revealed to her in a dream.
The young woman returned to her home in the village among the bamboo trees. Alone in the dark, she returned to her apartment. Her clothes were sullied in dirt and torn from the brush. She opened the decrepit box under the light of a lantern and found a browned, frayed scroll. It was the ancient words of her ancestors, hidden away for centuries of safekeeping within the old mountain banyan. It was the knowledge she desired and the ancient power to bend the mountains and control the forests. She had learned much from the mysterious woman who visited the village months ago. The woman had attained the strength of their ancient ancestors and communed with the divine. The young woman yearned for more.
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The palm leaves hanging over the road swayed with the rhythm of the gentle northerly breeze rolling across the country. Farmers worked the plows and pulled on the dirt, preparing the rice paddies for planting. The rays of the dry season sun radiated a plum of sweltering heat.
It was midday when the young woman passed along the road leading through the fields. She was wearing a red silk sbai draped over her left shoulder and a plain black sarong tied around her waist, her eyes were the dull color of the blackened sky when the moon glistened the brightest, and she strode gracefully with an impassive stare. She followed a younger man dressed in the familiar grey and white uneven twill sarong worn by the Pavilion guards, the defenders of the rest stops and highways connecting all the major cities of Nokor. The bronze kha blade dangled from the cotton sash tied around his hips and clinked and thumped against his thigh with each step.
“It is not far now,” said the Pavilion guard.
“We’ve been walking all morning.” She threw a bitter glare at the guard. “Do you plan to carry me? If not, I suggest you wait and allow me to catch my breath.” The woman pulled off the sash around her waist and patted the beads of sweat forming around her neck and forehead.
The Pavilion guard looked back and shrugged. “We can rest ahead.” He pointed toward a shaded spot under a beng tree located off the weathered path.
After a few moments’ rest, the man inquired. “Some villagers say you are a healer of great renown and that you even made a pact with an ancient Neakta.”
“I do not channel spirits. I make medicines and combine potions.”
“Oh… So, that is not sorcery of some kind?” He looked surprised.
“Combining isn’t magic.” Nakry started tying the sash back around her waist. “It's based on natural processes from the material world. Dark magic rests solely on supernatural powers from immoral demons, and using it only invites further evil."
Nakry trained for eight years in the temple in Anitdayapura, studying healing or the art of combining herbs, roots, oils, and animal parts. She read the sacred texts of the palm-leaf manuscripts, which describe the human body being formed by two elemental energies: earth and water. She learned how all life contains energies based on the five doshas: earth, water, fire, air, and space. And she knew healers only needed to balance the five energies to treat sickness and other infirmities. However, there were others ways the doshas could be combined. Other specialists could create powerful explosions, transmute objects, or make deadly poisons. But there were also things she would never learn from those writings. There were far older traditions in Nokor. Before the Chakravartin arrived from the east to unite the warring kingdoms, people practiced dangerous magic. Black magic practitioners have been hunted and killed for their malicious activities for the last two hundred years. A few might survive in secret, but most have disappeared from Nokor along with the Neakta they worshiped.
The Pavilion guard stared at the ground. "I suppose the Neakta seldom leave the ancient mountains and deep forests, but, before Unification, our greatest heroes invoked the mighty powers of the Neakta. They achieved incredible glory."
Nakry noticed him rubbing his fingers over a pendant around his neck. She recognized the symbol: the blooming lotus. It was a strange motif for a warrior to wear, representing purity of consciousness. Most would have selected a noble elephant or fearless fighter to protect them in battle. Bonreun was also slightly leaner than the average warrior, but, perhaps, not less capable. His reverence for the romantic heroes might also suggest he was an idealist, which meant he was at least a little naïve.
The herbalist tugged at her clothes and straightened her hair. "The Neakta are dishonest beings who use false promises and witchery to corrupt and mislead foolish people."
Bonreun was referring to the old stories of fantastic heroes who invoked the mystical powers of ancient deities. The favorite among warriors was the human incarnation of a god who felled a one-thousand-armed demon with a sword of jade carved from the immortal mountain of Champey, the place where heavenly beings lived. There were many others too like the story of a young woman blessed by a Neakta who gained the ability to turn Nokor into a garden after her people were driven from the north. Nakry wondered how true to life these tales were and thought about the steep prize required to obtain heavenly power. The latter about which people seldom talked. Most people do not know that the swordsman lost his mind later in life and was sealed for eternity under the Cinnamon bark mountains or that the woman lost her sight and could not marvel at the majesty she created. She, too, also went mad. The Neakta always required something in return, often the things we hold most dearly.
Bonreun distracted himself with a stick he used to draw circles in the dirt. "Are you rested, herbalist? We only have a short distance left."
Rues Sei township benefited greatly from its location on a major trade route. It was a moderate-sized village used as a rest stop for weary travelers making their way to and from the northern shores' coastal trade ports to the rice kingdoms' sprawling capital. It was populated by merchants, farmers, artisans, Pavilion guards, and government officials. Most ordinary people lived within thatched-roof bamboo houses, but there were a few wooden homes with clay tile. Trade combined with paddy farming permitted some, but not all, to amass a modest fortune.
In the town center, trade caravans were passing through the streets. Merchants carried wooden crates filled with exotic fruits from the outlying islands; luxury imports like ivory, precious stones, porcelains, and tortoise shells from lands across the northern sea; and barrels of rice and sorghum from other settlements in the rice paddies. Some goods would make their way into Rues Sei, but most were destined for wealthy merchants and nobles in the capital. Pavilion guards escorted them down the main road south, their clothes dusty and dirty from days of travel. Several of the villagers had gathered to watch the wagons pass.
"Looks like a merchant ship broke through those pirates in the North Sea," a villager said.
"Probably entered through the Forest of Mangroves. It's isolated, and the pirates wouldn't notice," the other responded.
Nakry walked with Bonreun down a dirt path from the town's center to the lord's manor. It was the most splendid building in the township, located on the eastern portion of the city. Although the estate was not extravagant compared to structures of the ancient cities of Anitdayapura or Nagarajaya, it still conveyed the privileges and respectability afforded to noble families. The manor was constructed from elegant and rare korki hardwood, a material as durable as sandstone. There were intricately carved floral motifs of jasmines and lotuses framing the black tiles on the gable. The stilts holding the building measured two or three persons tall and were surrounded by a lush vegetable patch, a grand fountain, and a gorgeous garden filled with exquisite flowers.
The household servants busied themselves with daily labors. The smells of fish oils, water hyacinth, coriander, and rice paddy herb floated in the air from the cooking area where a stern-faced man butchered an ox leg, and two timid servants stoked the fires and chopped vegetables. Another group of female servants swept the grounds while another polished the stone statues of guardian lions and a seven-head crested Naga overlooking a cast stone fountain with a replica of the sacred peak of Mount Champey at the center. The main house had a beautiful wood-carven door with the image of a tiger and waterlily. Near the entryway, an elderly female servant dressed in yellow-green linen fabrics greeted Bonreun and Nakry when they arrived. She spoke calmly and unwaveringly before she left to inform the lord of their arrival.
Bonreun waited outside while Nakry entered the living area. The furniture inside the lord's manor was carved from fragrant cardamom and cinnamon woods imported from the southern mountain kingdoms. The living area had a conventional style, decorated in the traditional ikat style of woven rough silk and mountain cotton upholstery. Strung on the wall was a pidan embroidered with images of war elephants ridden by the nobles during the era of the Devaraja and etched wooden panels of ancient guardian spirits worshipped before the Unification of Nokor. The iconography retained its popularity among broad sectors of the warrior class.
The old lord sat on a couch facing the east window. He was dressed in a red silk sarong embroidered with a pair of golden cockscombs on a background of diamond brocade, only two flowers, designating the lowest rank of nobility. Still, it was two more than the quantity afforded to the average commoner. Comparable to Bonreun, he was a warrior, but one forged in blood and battle. His bravery was signified by the gold chain laced around his neck with a ruby embellished silver hilted dagger and the bronze ring, which would have held a kha blade if the war was not miles to the north. Yet, his glory had faded. Now, his hair was streaked grey, and old injuries and the passage of time had tattered his body.
Nakry bowed with hands together to greet the lord. He rose from the couch with a grimace and struggled to right himself, billowing a pained grunt. "I am Davuth Lai, and I am grateful you have come all this way. The evil that haunts the village threatens not only the people but also my daughter. I would kill the demon myself, but I should at least see that the spirit reaches the next life."
"Evil spirits inhabiting our world are bound by the same laws governing all other conscious beings. It can be killed or cleansed. What is the origin of the demon?"
Davuth sighed and leaned back into the couch. He rested one hand on his knee and rubbed the ash-stricken hairs of his beard. "Before the birth of my son, I had another wife. She was pregnant, and I was young. I left to fight in the north, but when I returned, the child had died in the womb. She wanted another, but…." Davuth sighed. "She perished in childbirth; now, her spirit has become vengeful."
"Did the monks perform the last rites?"
"It was the rainy season. The monks seldom leave their monasteries during the deluge. But truly, it is my fault. I did not love her as I should have. My heart belonged to another, but, in the end, even she died." Davuth's voice shook. "My new lover was due to give birth, and I could not have her spirit in my home. It would be dangerous for my son. But now the pitiful woman suffers after death."
"And what of the child?"
"My daughter Arruny is her child."
"Souls unable to let go of their previous lives can become fiends that curse the living. They wander areas most familiar to them. During times of turmoil, evil spirits become especially active. I will do what I can, but I can't guarantee the spirit will stay banished."
"Regrettably, if you cannot exorcise the evil, I will deal with it myself." Davuth fretted with the dagger dangling from his neck.
Bonreun guided the herbalist to the young daughter's apartment near the western quarter from the inner courtyard. Around the building were flowering shrubbery, a small pond, and a jasmine flower bed. Thorn bushes lined the path leading to the entrance. Linen sheets covered the windows. A bowl of breakfast sat on the table next to the door. It was fermented noodles cold and untouched. The sour smell and fragrance of galangal hovered around the door. When Bonreun tried to slide the door open, it did not budge. Someone had barricaded it. He knocked and called for the occupant. The pattering of feet drew closer to the door, and a distressed voice called out. "Who is it?! What do you want?" The woman dragged something toward the door.
"Arruny, please open. It is Bonreun, and I bring a healer with me from Battam village." He petitioned the young woman. Arruny thought silently for a moment and pushed the object away from the entry.
The entrance opened into a sophisticated living area with wooden furnishings. At the back of the room was a sliding door to the sleeping quarters, and a young woman sat on an elevated pallet bed made from finely polished hardwood. The walls were decorated with delicate motifs of lotus flowers, banyan trees, cockscombs, and jasmine. A couch with red and gold lattices and stars was pushed against the wall next to a lacquered wood table. The scent of incense burned Nakry's nose, and fragrant flowers decorated the table at the center of the room. There was also a lingering acrid odor drifting through the air. The cacophony of aromas mostly drowned out the scent, but it was still perceptible.
A table in the corner caught the herbalist's eye. There was nothing exceptional about it, but scattered on top were small earthenware jars, carved wood containers, some broken, others intact, and a stone mortar. The vessels were empty aside from residue from nondescript oils, shavings of herbs, and residual stains from a fluid. Nakry recognized them as the tools of a combiner. Was someone making potions?
Arruny pulled herself onto the bed and leaned her back onto the headboard. "Bonreun, I am pleased to see you," Arruny said. "And who is with you?" She looked suspiciously at the herbalist.
"Meet the healer, Nakry. She is a combiner and says that she can help you."
Arruny adjusted her clothing and tried to sort her disheveled hair. "It is a pleasure. I am sorry to have met you in this condition." Arruny looked to be of similar age but had a more youthful bearing. Sweat and oil soaked the young woman's long, black hair, which formed tendrils falling around her neck as she sat on the bed. She looked not to have bathed for weeks. Half-moon dark circles formed under her eyes.
"My father sent you." The woman scoffed. "I'm surprised he suddenly has an interest in his own daughter."
Bonreun grimaced. "Your father cares deeply for you."
"He hasn't visited since my brother left for the north." She snapped.
Nakry pretended not to listen. "I will prepare a concoction that will help you rest." She moved toward a corner of the room.
Nakry pulled the rattan bag from across her shoulder and took out small vials, glass jars, and porcelain containers filled with an assortment of herbs, roots, pastes, and some granular substances. She placed each of them methodically on the table next to her. Then approached the ailing woman and began her examination. She checked Arruny's temperature and the pulse on her wrist and observed her breathing. And then, without speaking, she returned to the table of medicines and began combining different herbs into a small wooden mortar. She mashed them until a paste formed. Pleasant aromas intermingled with pungent smells of plowed earth and finished with the bitter notes of medicinal roots. "I will need boiled water." Nakry turned to the Pavilion guard standing near the doorway.
Bonreun stood up and nodded. He exited the building and headed for the kitchens. Moments later, he returned with an urn filled with hot water. Nakry thought how she might have specified the amount sufficient to fill a cup would have been fine. She mixed the water into a small stone cup filled with the concoction and let the combination steep for a couple of minutes. Medicinal vapors filled the room as mint, turmeric, ginger, and faint smells filled the room. Nakry handed the cup to Arruny. "Drink this?"
"What is it?" The woman smelled the liquid and flared her nostrils. "It looks like dirt and water."
"A potion. It will relax your mind and body."
The woman drank the liquid without further protest and winced as it washed down her throat. Nakry watched intently as the woman slowly gulped the tea. She had prepared the medicine dozens of times in her two years as an herbalist but always worried that she might have muddled the ingredients or confused the proper ratios. When working with medicinal herbs, the worst case would be accidentally giving a patient painful pox or inducing a night of vividly terrifying dreams. Still, there was a slight chance of creating something harmful. Nakry watched the woman. There was no flinching or convulsing, which was a good sign.
"It cools my senses but is bitter and tastes worse than dirt." Arruny choked, exaggeratingly.
"There's dried bladder from wild boar and some herbs," Nakry replied.
Arruny recoiled. “Uhm…thank you, Miss Nakry. You are very kind." She handed the cup back to the herbalist with a sour face.
"Now, tell me, what has happened to you? There is an evil spirit, I am told." Nakry started digging for a vessel in her bag.
The young woman looked shakenly at the herbalist and slowly rose from the bed. She walked over to the other side of the room and sat on the couch. "When I awake in the morning, I can't remember anything from the previous night. It's just blackness. But I have these terrible dreams; a demon hungers for flesh and blood. It wanders the manor, the village, and the forest, hunting. Sometimes I feel like the monster is me, but other times, I observe it in some sort of nightmare." Tears collected under her eyes, and her hands trembled.
"Before the sun sets, burn the incense and recite a prayer. It will cleanse your mind and ward away those dark thoughts." Nakry handed Arruny two incense and a bowl. "I must visit others in the village, but I will return."
In the village center, four elders were gathered outside a home, busily washing clothes while a young girl and her mother hung them to dry. Another group across the plaza was sectioning and crushing sugar cane on a wooden press. Neither group paid her much mind, preoccupied with their daily work.
"One of the villagers lives not far from here, and she was one of the first to report the sickness." Bonreun pointed toward a path lined with plumed palm trees reaching higher than most of the surrounding buildings. It narrowed around a stall and turned around a bamboo house decorated with oblong paper lanterns suspended by a wooden post.
"How long has the spirit been visiting the village?"
Bonreun leaned his head into his hands and stretched out his back. "It was the last new moon. Many of the villagers think it is a thnom. Animals have been disappearing. People wake up to find blood on their sheets left to dry. The town is on edge. The Pavilion guards can't patrol the forests as regularly. There are fewer of us since the war. Rues Sei is an important rest stop on the trade route to the capital, so most of our energy has been devoted to protecting the caravans."
"Next, we will hear of a nagi stealing children who overeat and don't obey their parents," Nakry said dismissively. "It is likely a suffering spirit that needs to be cleansed."
Bonreun shrugged. "Strange things happen at night in these rural villages and ancient forests. I have been assigned to the Rues Sei Pavilion for over two years, and it's a very different place from the capital."
"Every time a group of villagers becomes convinced of a witch in their village, they kill some incredulous farmer or estranged wife. Thnom haven't been seen in Nokor for a hundred years, and without a Neakta, they have no power."
"True. But I have heard rumors from the caravans of monsters and demons stirring in the deep woods and mountains." Bonreun's gaze drifted toward the bamboo trees swinging on the forest's edge. "The Chakravartin has been gone for a long time, and who is to say that they would not someday return?"
"The Neakta agreed to no longer meddle in human affairs. The ones who refused to abide by the pact fought back but ultimately lost. Their numbers have dwindled, and the living ones have little interest in human society."
"Nokor's unity did not survive the disappearance of the Chakravartin. We are divided, more so each day. Perhaps, they only bide their time."
Nakry sighed. "Tell me about the woman."
"She reported to the Pavilion a few days ago. She claims she saw a demon wandering near her home late in the evening. A woman lives in the home next to her. She is carrying a child and has become weak. The old woman believes it's a witch that feeds on the blood of pregnant women."
The woman's house was located on the village's southern end, close to the road. It was a small dwelling on short stilts. Most furniture was constructed from bamboo, rattan, and woven reed. The inside measured the size of the room where Nakry stayed in Battam. Although small in comparison, the young couple kept the home clean and comfortable. The herbalist could not say the same about her home. She often worked late into the evening, reading texts and mastering formulas. It was always a mess, and she felt slightly embarrassed comparing the woman's home to hers.
The pregnant woman lay on a reed mat in the back of the home while the older woman waited in the living area. Nakry greeted the elder and began to prepare her medicines and herbs on the floor mat. The young woman's hair was tied back with a scarf, and she wore blue linen clothing and looked to be nearly six months with child. The herbalist felt for the woman's pulse on the wrist and noted the colorless complexion of her skin. "How do you feel, sister?"
"There is weakness in my legs, and I feel dizzy when I stand."
The older woman interjected. "It was a demon from the old era, when evil spirits craved the blood of the unborn and the unfortunate women carrying them."
"We will do all we can to help the woman." Bonreun tried to calm her.
Nakry considered the older woman's warning and turned her attention back to the young woman. "I will combine a potion to help ease your birthing pain. Raing mountain tree leaves are well known to ease maternal pains and birthing complications." Fortunately, Nakry already had a tincture prepared for the occasion. Birthing pains were among the more common disorders afflicting young women in villages across the rice paddies. She pulled from her bag a solution of Raing mountain leaf extract infused with flamingo bill and silver snake liver. The taste was bitter and horrendous, but it served the purpose. She gave a small amount of the tincture to the woman, diluted with a few drops of kaffir lime oil for taste.
Nakry and Bonreun began the walk back to the manor sometime after nightfall. The evening sky was black except for the twinkling stars that floated distantly in the skies; the pungent smells of tilled earth hung over the village in a thick fog. In the moon's faint glow, the path leading to the manor appeared narrower. An acrid odor floated across the forest as they trekked through the night. With each step, the foul stench grew more vigorous. Nakry winced and held a breath. Suddenly, Bonreun paused and extended out his arm.
"Nakry, get down." He crouched to the ground.
"What's going on?" She whispered.
"There's something ahead. Do you hear it?" Bonreun slowly drew his sword from the sheath.
The sound of mashing teeth and flesh separating from bone echoed in the quiet. They silently approached the bending path. The floating figure made Nakry's stomach clench. A head with disheveled hair streaked with white and black, eyes clouded white, chalky skin, and the festering pustules of a corpse pulled from the river. Protruding from the severed neck were portions of connective tissue barely hanging from skin and muscle. Bellow hung human organs: heart, intestines, and stomach. A dull glow radiated around the exposed organs and an intestinal track that behaved like tendrils.
The creature devoured a long-dead animal. Its mouth opened like a cat revealing rows of daggered teeth and a rope-like tongue, which slurped the blackened and curdled blood. Nakry watched as the creature engorged on rotten meat and clotted morsels. Then, it glided silently through the air with visceral arms pulling it toward the trees.
"It's the demon. We should kill it now." Bonreun gripped the hilt of the kha blade.
"It came from the direction of the manor. If the creature intends to harm Arruny, we must protect her."
The western hall looked hallow the darkness. Nakry tried to open the door, but it would not budge. Fortunately, the stilted house had a veranda encircling it, which made accessing one of the windows much easier. One of the wooden shutters on the southern exterior looked loose and gave way without much effort. Bonreun gently pried the hinge to avoid creating a loud noise. Nakry surveyed the visible grounds hoping nobody had discovered them; it was clear. She entered the western hall first through the window to the living chamber. Combing through the darkness, she located the carved door leading to Arruny's room and beaconed Bonreun to follow. The hall was silent, which gave Nakry an unsettled feeling. She gently pushed open the door and investigated the room.
Most of the room was shrouded in black, excluding a slightly cracked shutter. Nothing was noticeably out of the ordinary except a strange smell emanating from the room. It was a foul scent like rotting corpse and disturbed dirt. Nakry called into the chamber. "Miss Arruny, are you there?" She whispered. Nothing responded. She turned her head to face her companion. Bonreun only returned her a troubled glance. Nakry ignited a lantern from her bag and illuminated the halls. At first, from the shadow on the wall, she noticed an indistinct form lying in bed where Arruny was supposed to be. "She is still asleep," Bonreun muttered.
However, Nakry sensed something was not right, but Bonreun had already made his way to the young woman's bedside. As he walked toward the lying figure, Bonreun had to pull his hand to his face to cover his mouth and nose. The intolerable stink was overpowering. With one hand, Bonreun pulled back the sheets. Then suddenly, he began choking in disgust and horror at what he had seen. Nakry watched as he struggled not to retch. On the bed was the decomposed corpse of a young woman. Her arms and legs were purple with coagulated blood, and her skin was grey and black from rot. Oddly, the red silk she wore was unsullied and kempt. But the most horrific element was where a head should have been. In place of it was a gaping hole of exposed tendon, throat, and muscle and the absence of blood or arterial spray. Unable to stand the foul odor and the spectacle before them, Nakry and Bonreun retreated to the living hall behind them.
"What was that?!" Bonreun shouted hoarsely. "Arruny…she is dead. Murdered." He tried to catch his breath.
"That doesn't make sense. We saw her today, and that amount of decay…it couldn't be possible." Nakry rasped. Then she remembered the corpse-like head with the disheveled hair.
From a corner of the room, Nakry heard an echoing murmur and saw a glint of peculiar blue light from the corner. In a sudden motion, dagger-like teeth snapped toward the herbalist. Tiny droplets of saliva and foam splashed forward, hitting the wall. The creature gyrated and coiled through the air like a serpent. Its tongue lashed at the air like a whip and looked like a leech trying to bite prey. The monster stared at the herbalist and the guard through dead, clouded eyes. Bonreun ripped the kha blade from the sheath and prepared a defensive strike. The monster floated in place as long, gruesome tentacle-like viscera tangled and pulled toward him, hissing with anger. Then it closed the distance and tore toward Bonreun, baring teeth wide open with an unhinged jaw. The guard swung the blade at the floating head, which it attempted to dodge. The beast shrieked with an ear-piercing yowl as the sword sliced cleanly through a dangling intestine, sending parts writhing to the floor. The tentacles danced like eels pulled from the sea. The creature curled and snarled, then flew toward Arruny's room. In the space, it floated above the bed where the body lay. It was coiled into a defensive stance, but it took another look at Bonreun and darted out the window.
Bonreun held his hand steady on the kha blade and turned to Nakry, his voice panicked. "The evil spirit is scared. Such monsters are at their most dangerous when they are terrified and desperate. Stay on guard."
Nakry opened her bag and pulled out some unmarked jars. "I’ll light some incense. It will help to ward the creature away for now.”
“Did the monster kill Arruny? We must kill it before anyone else becomes its victim.”
“I think the being is Arruny. The cursed spirit is using her as a host. If we harm the monster, it might kill her.” Nakry looked over at the rotting corpse on the bed, and she moved closer and began investigating it.
“What are you doing?” Bonreun choked in revulsion. “The smell is foul. I can hardly stand it.”
“I’m checking something.” The herbalist placed her hands on the lifeless body and pressed down on the abdomen. She gestured to Bonreun to direct the lantern’s light so she could investigate the severed neck. Then she pulled from her bag a sharp scalpel and made a shallow incision into the stomach area. Bonreun redirected his view and fought the urge to vomit. A slimy ooze leaked from the cut; an even noxious odor poured out. Nakry pushed her hand into the opening, feeling the cold wetness of viscous blood and putrefied organs. The fetid smells were the worst part. The herbalist reached for the organs, locating the intestines, stomach, and heart. She turned to Bonreun, who returned a horrified stare. “All the organs are in place. Whatever the creature is, it seems to have its own.” Nakry pulled her hands from the wound, and the flesh squelched. “We can seal the spirit in an earthen jar.”
“How do we do that?” Bonreun backed away, located a cloth, and handed it to Nakry.
“We will need some of the wife’s ashes.” Nakry wiped the rancid sludge from her hand. “But we will have to cut the heart from the demon and place it with the ashes. The spirit has a physical form, which means it isn’t entirely dead, but that also means we can kill it, but to make sure it stays dead, we will need to seal it.”
“That thing is faster than it looks. How would we even catch it?”
“We don’t have to. The spirit uses Arruny as a host, like a parasite, but it can only come out at night, which means it will return to the host before the sun rises. She is a corrupted spirit and yearns to rejoin the living. We may be able to lure it with the ashes. It needs a body and will come back for one.”
The shrine located at the back of the manor was painted gold with red trimming. Miniature carvings of crested snakes and lions decorated the platform. It stood five feet from the ground with a decorated pillar carved from solid wood. An intricately engraved flower bloomed from the base, while motifs of banana leaves sprung from the shaft holding the shrine. The earthenware mortuary jar rested near the small house, designed to offer sanctuary to wandering spirits. Nakry opened the urn and found the black and grey remains of what once had been the vessel for a human soul. She scooped a sample and sifted it into an earthen jar, which she would use to seal the corrupted fiend.
Bonreun watched intently and held his hand to the hilt of his blade. “It is almost morning. Are you certain the creature will return?”
“We will soon find out. Let’s return to Arruny’s apartment.”
Nakry burned some incense, which smelled of jasmine and lotus flowers. The smoke winded and flowed to the ceiling like waves flowing downstream. On a reed-woven rug, Nakry placed the urn containing the ashes of the deceased woman at the center. She began chanting a prayer to herself while Bonreun stood near the window, ready to defend against the beast. Arruny’s grisly headless body lay on the floor on a woven linen rug facing upward as the herbalist prepared to exorcise the malignant spirit.
Nakry knelt on the rug with her hands together. “Open the window. I will try to summon the spirit, so it has no other hiding place. We must do it before morning; otherwise, the sun may kill it.”
The shudder opened with a creak, and a fresh breeze broke into the room. The fresh air was a small comfort from the stink of decaying flesh; the incense did little to hide the foulness. Nakry glanced out the window and saw the trickle of light rising in the distance.
“The sun is nearly risen.” Bonreun backed away from the opening toward the other side of the room. “If the monster comes from the window, I’ll be ready.” Nakry nodded in response.
A whispered moan emanated from the window before the hideous fiend floated into the room, drawn by the sweet smells of burning incense and the instinctive need for self-preservation. Its eyes shift from the herbalist to the Pavilion guard and back again. With the sun slowly rising in the distance, the ghoul could no longer hide. Like a cornered beast, the monster hissed with rage and bared its fangs, coiling its viscera into a spring.
Bonreun ripped the kha blade from the sheath on his waist and readied his body for the attack, holding the sword out to one side. The fiend corkscrewed toward the Pavilion guard with jaws wide open. Bonreun spun the blade through the air and slashed, but the creature was faster. It cascaded weightlessly around the room, knocking over the table and shattering glass and pottery. Then it darted to the ceiling. The tendrils curled into a ball, pushed from the ceiling, and launched onto Bonreun. He screamed in agony as the beast tore through the flesh between his neck and shoulders. The pincered jaws latched harder while the intestinal tendrils wrapped around his body and held his arms in restraint.
Nakry picked up one of the stone-carved incense burners and flung it at the creature’s head, and it bounced from the fiend and crashed to the floor. Dead, clouded eyes flashed bitterly at the herbalist.
Meanwhile, Bonreun reeled backward, pressing against the wall. He struggled to pull his arms together and dropped the blade. Blood soaked his robes and dripped from the wound. The creature sucked the life from him as his eyes flickered and consciousness faded from the pain.
Nakry scrambled to locate something to distract the creature. She found the lantern and tossed the flame at the fiend. It screeched and wailed as an ember went alight in the matted, wiry hair. The monster convulsed and roared, releasing the grip around Bonreun. He dropped backward and stumbled to the wood. Nakry raced toward the kha blade protruding from the floorboard. She twisted her body, holding the sword with two hands, and aimed for the space between the neck and entrails. The cleave severed the head from the heart, and the creature dropped instantly. Its dead eyes stared lifelessly forward while the detached heart continued to beat. Bonreun pulled himself over and stabbed it with a knife attached to his waist.
“Quickly, take it and kill the cursed beast.” He shouted.
Nakry reached into the pile of viscera and extracted the cold heart. They felt cold, like reaching into the mud. She dropped it into the burial urn and lit a piece of kindling, dropping it into the vessel and sealing the lid. Smoke bubbled from the earthen jar and braided and twisted like long-roped fingers. Nakry stared attentively and, suddenly, stillness.
“The spirit is contained.” Nakry sighed in relief.
“So, it is over.” He clutched at the wound on his shoulder. Blackened blood stained his grey and white robes. “But what about Arruny?” Bonreun and Nakry looked over to the rug. There was no longer the corpse's blue and purple, and her head had returned. A sleeping young woman had replaced it.
The morning light filtered into the main hall of Davuth’s manor. He sat on the same couch where Nakry first met him. “Is this the container that holds the corrupted spirit?” Davuth examined the funerary urn like a merchant would appraise an emerald stone. “It looks like an ordinary jar.”
“You must take the urn to a monastery for safekeeping. I cannot cleanse the spirit, but the monks may be able to do so with time. They will sing chants and pray for it so that one day it can ascend and return to the living, but, for now, it is safer to keep it sealed within the jar.
“I will see it done. Thank you for your services, healer.”
Nakry bowed and left the main hall. She strided through the central courtyard watching the household servants sweep the grounds. A woman with tied-back hair and an orange sarong trimmed the flowers while another heaved a bucket from the well to water the plants. The herbalist gazed toward the statue of the seven-headed crested Naga and marveled at the majesty of the ancient being. She saw Arruny sitting on a bench near the fountain. The young woman looked different from when the herbalist first met her a day earlier. Her long hair curled into a bun with a gold hairpin studded with emerald. She wore a dark yellow sampot and a sullen expression.
“I saw the empty bottles and herbs in your room,” Nakry said to the woman. “Dark magic only invites evil.”
Arruny did not immediately respond. Her gaze focused on the jasmine flower bed. “Before the Unification, our people were said to be descendants of the Anontakan. The conquerors have killed our traditions and hunted our practitioners and knowledge keepers. They want us to follow their customs and rituals.” She met Nakry’s eyes. “In a dream, I was visited by the Naga, and they showed me the ancient ways of our people. I made a mistake. I will not make it again.” The young woman gazed at Nakry with a single-minded determination; her hands clenched around her knees with misdirected animosity. The herbalist realized there was no way to get through to her. She was dug into her position.
“Then, I hope you will find peace.” Nakry turned toward the main gate and strolled to the village.
On the edge of Rues Sei, Bonreun had propped himself against a palm tree, one foot pressed against its trunk. He wore the grey and white sarong of the Pavilion guards but had a tight bandage wrapped around the shoulder where the creature had bitten him. He was fortunate the injury was only minor and would likely heal in a few days.
“I wanted to thank you for helping out the village.” He smiled with a slight bow. “I suppose it’s back to Battam then.”
“It’s not a far journey. Don’t know when I’ll ever be back.”
“You know. I am not quite sure what that creature was all about, but I am glad not to have something like that roaming the village anymore.” He laughed.
Nakry said her goodbyes to Bonreun and departed along the road through the rice paddies. A strong breeze swept the country, causing the palm leaves above to slash violently. Dark clouds crept over the hillsides from the north. The monsoons came early this season.
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