Free Me

Old Ones

"Not to you."

The hall they stepped into branched out into four others. Lost threw her undesirable bone down the far left hall, but she didn't hear it land. She couldn't even hear it fly through the air. She looked to Deanna, who pointed to the middle right. They moved on side by side, Lost squinting at the scratched up walls and dried blood stains. She was memorizing their route for future reference.

"Not far now," Deanna whispered. Then, "Damn, it's hot."

Lost wiped her brow as she walked on, and glanced at Deanna as she poured a bit of water on her face. Deanna spluttered and wiped her cheeks, then capped her water bottle and used it to point to an upcoming chamber. A gust of air whooshed into the two women as they passed the threshold, but it was warm air and made them more uncomfortable. Deanna stopped a dozen feet into the chamber and cocked a hip. Lost stopped, too, looking around in the glow of Deanna's light orb. The chamber was large with high ceilings, the walls stone, etched with markings of times past and struggles. Lost walked around uninhibited as Deanna begun the summoning ritual of the old ones.

"I thought they'd be here already," Lost mumbled, dipping her fingers into five large gashes in the stone wall. "You know, to be around for the deaths."

"They are," Deanna replied. She kicked at the ground to disperse settled dust and sand. "But they've... given up corporeal form."

"They're ghosts?"

"Sneaky ghosts. They don't always come out when we want so we summon them to make sure they show."

Lost grunted then crossed her arms over her chest and rested on the wall, one of her feet flat against it. She'd dealt with ghosts before and found the ritual of summoning them rather boring. It was slow going and, honestly, all she wanted was to get this over with so she could get back to Kahlan. She would placate the old ones and not have to deal with them again for a few decades at the least. She still thought these diversion meetings with them were silly solutions, but she didn't have a better idea yet so would go along with this one.

"Ready?" Deanna asked, stepping back and motioning for Lost to join her. Lost remained where she was but pushed off the wall to appear at least mildly intrigued. She kept her arms at her sides as a gust of wind blew about her hair and the sound of collective wailing hit her ears. Deanna rolled her eyes.

"What is this?" The old ones asked in broken english, their collective voice a combination of altos and sopranos. Harsh winds filled the chamber, directed at Lost. She held still, squinting, and waited for it to stop before stepping forward. "Who are you?"

Looking up, Lost could make put the familiar vision of old ghosts. They were swipes in the air like living paint. "I know not my original name," she boomed in the old tongue. "I am called Lost now, and I was born here."

Ugly groans echoed. "Why have you come to our tomb?" they called.

"I was asked here."

"For what reason?"

"To prevent your interference in the world above."

The old ones crowed like beasts. "So honesty does exist. Why have you chosen to be truthful?"

Lost glanced at Deanna, who raised her eyebrows in question. Lost returned her gaze to the paint splatters in the air. The old ones were not stupid, and apparently very well knew Deanna's tactics at keeping them underground. "What's the point in lying?" asked Lost.

"There is none." The old ones gave a gruesome moan. "Say what you have to say then leave."

Lost turned to Deanna and said, "They know you've been fooling them."