Awaken

by Tanya Schofield

  The tracks, he found, were incoming, made by more than three men coming from the northwest. He froze. His ears strained, his skin prickled. He dropped a hand to his weapon, every nerve at the ready.

  Leaves crackled lightly behind him, and Calder spun, drawing the sword. Eight men – clearly Hunters – surrounded him even as another crossed his arms with a satisfied smirk.

  Calder counted them again, and his heart sank. There were only nine. The tenth man must be in Cabinsport. With Melody.

  “Drop your weapon. Now.”

  The ranger lunged forward instead, hoping he was faster than the man with crossed arms.

  He wasn’t. The Hunter sidestepped neatly and pushed Calder into two other soldiers, who quickly had him disarmed and kneeling. The Hunter captain’s sword at his throat kept him still.

  “You can’t save her,” the Captain assured him. A hood was pulled over the ranger’s head, and his hands were tightly bound before he was pulled to his feet. “Act right, though, and you might just survive.”

  9

  Melody tried to ignore the rumbling of her stomach, focusing instead on her father’s journal, and the symbols on the staff. She had cleaned up as best she could with the water in the basin when she woke, and swapped out her bloodied skirt and tunic for the other, but Calder had not come back.

  He’ll return soon, she told Attilus, who waited patiently by the door. Calder had said he’d be gone a whole day, but she didn’t want to believe him. She wanted him to be back by the time she woke. He wasn’t. Which meant she really would be on her own. Her stomach twisted nervously. At least her fever had run its course. Despite the crushing weakness of the day before, she felt well enough today.

  Dawn had broken, Melody no longer needed the candlelight to look at the journal. The thought of leaving the room in search of something to eat was frightening, but she knew she must. He had begged her to be strong, to endure, and she was determined to try. The noise from below was subdued – if there was a time to venture down, now was that time. She was glad of Attilus’ warm bulk at her side as she descended step by hesitant step.

  “You're awake,” Irma exclaimed with a smile, crossing the near-empty common room to greet her.

  Melody dropped a small curtsey, trying to return the smile.

  “You look like you feel better this morning,” Irma said. “That's a blessing.” She led Melody to a corner table, far from other patrons. “I was going to check on you after the breakfast crowd, let you get your rest, but since you're here, I'll get you something to eat.”

  Melody caught the sleeve of the rapidly departing woman, and chewed her lip as she tried to communicate safely. Still hoping Calder might have returned early, she gestured to Attilus, then herself, then to an empty chair with a puzzled expression on her face.

  Irma beamed at her charade. “Your father? Don’t you worry, miss. He took care for your stay,” she said. “He said he’d be back in a few days, but you’ll be just fine. I'll look after you like you were my own.”

  Melody tried to hide her panic and look as happy as Irma, but her stomach had clenched at the words. A few days? Not just one? A frightened squeal from the kitchen sent an apologetic Irma bustling away with a promise to return with breakfast.

  Melody sat with her back to the wall, her restless fingers scratching at Attilus’ ears. He didn’t protest.

  “Here you are, dear,” said Irma, bringing a mug of water and a plate of cold meat, cheese, and an apple. She paused. “Now, I don't want to be a bother,” she began, “but if I were to find someone else to finish up your father's work downstairs, do you think you could guide them?” She lowered her voice. “We’ll lose more girls if we can't get that problem under control.”

  Melody nodded up at her. It was the least she could do, with Calder gone and the job unfinished.

  “Oh, wonderful,” Irma said. “I'll let you know when I find someone.”

  Melody waited until the woman’s back was turned before wrinkling her nose at the greasy meat and feeding it to Attilus. She ate the apple and picked at the cheese, tasting little but wanting to quiet her belly.

  Irma made the rounds of the common room quickly, since there were only three other people eating so early. None of them were talking, for which Melody was grateful. The hooded man in the far corner ordered another ale, which Irma brought him before approaching the two men by the door. It was not difficult to overhear Irma’s words. Melody watched over the edge of her mug.

  “I’m so sorry to bother you, sirs, but you seem capable, and my husband needs someone to finish a job for him.” Irma kept her voice down. “There would be payment, of course.”

  The larger man answered; his voice deep and rough. “What job, good lady?”

  Irma’s back was to her, but Melody could hear the smile in her voice. “Call me Irma, dear.” She lowered her voice to a whisper, and Melody could no longer make out the words. She saw the gesture towards her table, though, and dropped her eyes as both men turned to stare. When she looked back up, it was into the larger man’s eyes.

  He kept his gaze locked on Melody as he answered. “We’ll do it.”

  Melody looked back down at the core of her apple, afraid she might be sick.

  “I’ll let you get acquainted, then,” Irma said. “Mind her dog, now.”

  Attilus lay easily on Melody’s feet with a lack of concern she suddenly envied. She finally raised her eyes when the approaching men stopped beside her.

  “May we sit?”

  She nodded. They sat.

  Neither of them had the blue aura Melody had come to associate with magic, and she reminded herself to be careful around them.

  “Good morn to you, miss,” the shorter of the men said. “I am Kaeliph Fisher, and this is my brother, Jovan. Irma said you could guide us. She also told us you don’t speak?” It was a question.

  She examined each of their faces in turn as she nodded in confirmation, aware that they were doing the same to her.

  Kaeliph’s brown hair was close-cropped, but Jovan kept his longer, darker mane tied back. Jovan was massively built, broad and formidable, while Kaeliph, leaner, seemed almost feline in his movements. Kaeliph’s eyes were the color of honey, deep gold in the comb. Jovan’s eyes, like his hair, were near black, the dark of the night sky when the moon hid her face.

  Kaeliph’s face suddenly lit up with recognition. “By the Break,” he exclaimed softly. “You’re a Dweller!”

  Both Melody and Jovan stared at him.

  “Mother’s stories,” he explained. “She wasn’t sure Dwellers really existed, though. No one was. She said they live off the land, in silence – I mean, they could speak, they just didn’t—" His words tumbled over each other.

  Melody sat up straighter and leaned forward. Calder had told her once that no one knew of the Dwellers, which was why she’d been brought there – to keep her safe. He hadn’t told her why she needed safety, though. He said they’d talk about that when she was older. So how could someone here, of all places, know of her people?

  Kaeliph read her curious expression. “I could tell from your dress,” he explained. “The weave is unusual, and it isn’t dyed, and also … well, you look uncomfortable here.” Kaeliph paused. “Dwellers haven’t left the NightWood in a thousand years,” he mused.

  Now both of the brothers were looking at her. Melody's stomach churned under their scrutiny.

  “But you did,” he continued. “Why? There’s no reason to leave, the land provides everything. Dwellers are harmless, and no one would harm them…”

  Melody was struck again by the vision from the tree, the cold gray eyes of the masked man and the blood spraying from Gorlois’ neck, blood everywhere… Her eyes flashed, and she forgot to be safe.

  “Wrong,” she said, and though her voice was little more than a whisper, the brothers flinched in unison as the power of Melody’s memory assaulted them.

  Kaeliph raised a hand, as if he could block the sight he was seeing. In that single
word they felt it all, her fear and horror and crushing unfamiliar loneliness. They saw too clearly the endless blood and the soldiers and the bodies – her friends and family, elders and children.

  Melody shrank back in her seat and looked quickly to the far table to see if the other man had been affected. He hadn't moved. Oh Goddess, what had she done?

  Jovan blinked twice, rapidly, trying to not see the image he knew he wasn’t seeing, and trying to not notice Kaeliph’s reaction as his brother didn’t see the same thing. It was impossible, something out of one of their mother’s stories. But there it was, right before him, the gruesome slaughter like a veil over the face of this frightened girl.

  Attilus whined, breaking the stunned silence, and the brothers shook their heads to clear them. Melody scratched the dog’s ears. She kept her eyes down, though, wondering what trouble she had invited with her slip.

  “How did you—?”

  Jovan kicked his brother under the table without taking his eyes off Melody, and Kaeliph shut up. “Irma said you would guide us … below?” The older brother was making every effort to pretend that nothing unusual had happened.

  Melody took a deep, grateful breath, and nodded. Calder had said her magic was dangerous, but it seemed that these two, at least, didn’t hate and fear her. Yet. She silently vowed to be more careful.

  Melody summoned a determination she did not feel. She could do this. She would help them finish the job Calder had started, and she would wait for her friend to come back so they could finally leave this place. She wanted nothing more than to return to her forest.

  “We could start now,” Jovan said, “if you’ve nothing more pressing?”

  He watched as Melody stood and took the carved wooden staff – it stood taller than she did. Irma had said the girl was frail, but to Jovan, she just looked underfed. He watched as she knelt beside the massive hunting dog and pressed her forehead to his, and watched the dog obediently pad over to a spot near the entrance in response to her unspoken request. He watched Kaeliph’s lips move, half-forming questions the boy was desperate to ask aloud, and Jovan silenced his brother with the smallest shake of his head.

  Melody led them into the kitchen and down into the basement, moving slowly down the steep stairs. Her discomfort was apparent as Kaeliph lit three torches and handed them each one. They looked around.

  “Through there?” Jovan gestured to the recently expanded hole in the basement wall.

  Melody nodded.

  Kaeliph leaned down, trying to peer through without getting anything dirty.

  “Its just dirt, Kaeliph.” Jovan nudged him with his knee, sending his brother sprawling. Without care for his own trousers, Jovan knelt to get a better look. He arched an eyebrow at the tunnel on the other side. “Looks like the place.”

  “There’s no way you’re getting through there,” Kaeliph observed, picking up the torch he’d dropped. “You barely fit through a normal door.”

  Jovan began to pull at the opening in the earth with his free hand, but the going was slow. “You could help, you know,” he said.

  Kaeliph ignored him, trying to brush a dark smudge of dirt from the elbow of his fine-looking shirt without dropping his torch. Melody knelt and started pulling at the other edge of the hole alongside Jovan.

  “I meant him,” Jovan clarified, but she kept digging. The sooner she was out of this suffocating place, the better.

  Once the hole was wide enough for Jovan’s broad shoulders, Melody skimmed through, pulling her staff behind her. She set her torch into the bracket Calder had shown her… could it really have been just yesterday? The brothers were slow to follow, and she could hear their low conversation on the other side of the thick wall.

  “You didn't have to shove,” Kaeliph said. “This was a clean shirt!” His complaint sounded good-natured.

  “I doubt the rats will care, little brother. In you go …”

  Melody waited, but still no one came through. A long moment passed.

  “Is she … a witch?”

  Jovan’s reply was clipped. “She’s our guide. Let’s just get the job done.”

  Two torches were passed through the hole, and Melody stepped aside to give Kaeliph room. He brushed at the dust and dirt clinging to his shirt while Jovan eased himself through the opening with unexpected grace.

  Melody returned their torches and walked down the tunnel, trusting them to follow. This place unnerved her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that it remembered her.

  “This is no basement, Jovan.” Kaeliph was trying to look everywhere at once, up at the arched ceiling and back at the cave-in, peering down the side passages.

  “What is it then?” Jovan didn’t take his eyes off Melody’s back for more than a moment as she led them, unwavering, along the downward sloping main corridor. He could see footprints in the dust on the floor, one set booted, one bare – Melody and her father, no doubt.

  “I’m not sure. It just doesn’t feel … right.”

  Melody ignored them, wanting only to be finished and back above ground. They followed her into the large rounded room and set their torches in the brackets she showed them.

  Kaeliph looked up, but the curved ceiling extended higher than the circle of light – they must have been angling more sharply downward than he had guessed. Jovan, however, was looking down.

  Melody stood beside a dark stain on the stone floor, looking into the shadows on the other side of the room. Jovan took a knee beside her, examining the marks in the dust, picturing in his mind the fight that had played out here. This was too much blood for there to be no body, and no drag marks to indicate one had been moved.

  “What happened here?” Jovan asked her, forgetting that she did not speak.

  “How should I know?” replied Kaeliph, examining the stonework around the door.

  Listening intently to something she couldn’t name, Melody again forgot to be careful. My friend, she sent. He was wounded yesterday.

  It took Jovan a moment to realize she hadn’t actually spoken the words, and he stared at her in surprise until he processed what she hadn’t said and thought to respond.

  “Friend? Irma said your father—?”

  “Jovan?” Kaeliph interrupted his brother. From deep in the shadows came a familiar rustling noise, barely audible. “Is it getting darker?”

  “It is.” Jovan had noticed as well. He stood and looked around, but there was no reason he could see.

  Kaeliph rested an uneasy hand on the hilt of his rapier.

  Melody moved to stand in the center of the room and began to hum, sending her senses outward. Anger that seemed to surge from the walls themselves nearly silenced her, but she closed her eyes and kept on.

  “What is that?” Jovan left the stain alone and took a step closer to Melody, drawing his sword as his eyes scanned the room. The low hum continued, and the brothers soon realized that the sound was coming from their strange young guide. A sigil at the tip of her staff began to glow, too brightly to look at, pushing back the threatening darkness.

  “Jovan?” Kaeliph had forgotten all about his rapier, staring slack-jawed at Melody and the shining staff.

  Jovan kept his eyes trained on the receding shadow. The light spread, showing him all the way to the back wall of the rounded room – where the shapeless mass of rodent bodies were pressed into the darkness. There must be fifty of them, crushed together, and all of them were glaring at Melody.

  “Get closer, Kaeliph.” Jovan’s voice was calm, and his tone allowed for no argument. He may not understand how any of this was happening, but he understood how to respond. Kaeliph obeyed, drawing his rapier and keeping his eyes on the rats.

  “Melody,” Jovan continued in the exact same tone, “you can stop now.”

  Her eyes fluttered for a moment as she broke off the song, but she was pleased to realize she was not exhausted, just a little disoriented. Before the light from her staff faded, though, Melody saw what the brothers had seen. Her quiet delight fled, and she
took a frightened step backwards.

  There are too many!

  Jovan and Kaeliph stepped shoulder to shoulder in front of her, weapons ready, but she could feel their doubt layered on top of the venomous hate from the rodents, and even from the walls. The rats advanced, growling, in three groups – one moving around each side wall, the other in the center, preparing to charge. If the trio turned to run, they would be overcome. If they remained, they would likely meet the same fate.

  The rodents lunged – all three sides at once. Kaeliph and Jovan fought in unison, keeping Melody between them. Rats leapt, met steel, and fell back on top of others, but there were always more to replace them. The stink of the blood made Melody’s stomach churn, and the wet sounds of weapons meeting flesh brought back the nightmarish memory of the vision she couldn't seem to escape. It was too much.

  She had to make it stop. Melody drew herself inward, knowing she would be no use to the brothers if she tried to fight. Instead, she sang. She had no doubt the simple lullaby would work, though she had never used it on so many minds at once, or on angry rats. Behind her closed eyelids, she envisioned the song as a light wash of blue, drifting into the rodent swarm like a fog and making them heavy with sleep.

  Jovan, well into a rhythm, noticed the pace was slowing. The rats weren’t charging as quickly, or as high. Kaeliph, an adrenaline grin lighting up his youthful face, slowed his steps in time with the music he only then noticed. Within seconds, every living rat lay motionless at their feet. The soft song continued, and Kaeliph let his rapier hang at his side as he stared with dropped jaw at Melody for the second time in mere minutes.

  Jovan once again ignored impossibility, dropping to one knee and probing at one of the rodents. “It’s ... asleep?” His voice betrayed his curiosity.

  Kaeliph kicked another and confirmed. “They all are.”

  Melody opened her eyes but she did not let the music go, not yet. They were still in danger. Whatever had awakened in this place was turning its attention towards her, and it was not pleased.