A Blight of Blackwings

by Kevin Hearne

  I gasped in alarm, realizing how my ritual cleaning could look to him. “Curragh, I mean no disrespect to Dinae—”

  “No, no, no, I understand. I see that what you do comes from a pure mind, and I’m glad you taught me that. I try to act from the same place in my heart—or the bosom, as Dinae might put it. She voices similar sentiments to the huntress in her texts, but the phrasing is different.”

  I smiled. “I know.”

  “Ha! Of course you do. You know the scrolls better than I do. But it’s good to meet someone else who tries to live a devout life. I donate most of my salary to the temple as well. I sleep there, in fact, when I’m not out on jobs. I have no permanent residence.”

  My eyes narrowed and lips pressed together in suspicion. “Are you making fun of me?”

  “What? No, no! I don’t understand.”

  “Did someone tell you how I live?”

  “No. I never heard of you until we met last night. Do you mean to say you spend nights in temples also?”

  “Yes. Every night I’m not in a bunker like this or a Raelech embassy somewhere.”

  “Rock me,” he said, shaking his head in wonder. “The other couriers I’ve met don’t do that.”

  “Nor do the other stonecutters I’ve met.”

  We laughed at the coincidence, and then, much to my embarrassment, a tear practically leapt out of my eye and ran down my cheek.

  “Oh, no!” Curragh said. “What’s the matter?”

  I wiped the traitorous tear away with the heel of my palm. “Nothing. It’s just nice to finally meet someone else who lives the way I do. I mean, there are plenty of devout Raelechs, thank the goddess, but you don’t meet many of the blessed who choose the ascetic path. So I’m happy to learn that you have. It means I’m not alone.”

  “Oh, good. I was worried I’d offended somehow.”

  “Not at all.” I sniffled and dropped my eyes to my leathers. Before it could get any more awkward than I had already made it, I changed the subject. “I’ve never seen a bunker like this one before. Who designed it?”

  “I did. This is my very first build.” That jerked my gaze back up.

  “Really? I wouldn’t have thought it was your first. It’s impressive.”

  “Thanks. I’ve been waiting a long time to do something like this. The old roads already have their bunkers, you know, and it’s not polite to tear down some other stonecutter’s work. Not to mention disrespectful of the history of architecture. But here we have a new trade route, and I’ll get to build all these designs I’ve had bouncing around my head for years.”

  “Yeah?” I grinned at him, suspecting that I had just spied the first glint of a vein that ran deep into his core. “Tell me what you have planned.”

  He did, at length, while I worked on my polishing chores. We finished off the contents of my flask, partly to celebrate his accomplishment and partly to celebrate finding someone else of a similar mindset. He did crush my stones about it, though.

  “That whiskey is pretty fancy for an ascetic, don’t you think?” He had the same tiny half smirk on one side of his mouth that I had seen yesterday, which I was coming to recognize as an indication he was having fun.

  “I forgo many luxuries, Curragh, but I don’t settle for shitty whiskey, and neither should you.”

  “You upbraid me sternly, and I take your scolding to heart.” He said that with the same teasing expression.

  “It’s only proper. I’m honoring the distiller’s craft.”

  “Consider me well schooled.”

  “Hope you enjoyed it, because that’s all I have.”

  “I did. Thank you.” He flashed a full smile at me, and I felt flutters in my stomach.

  My leathers were in fine condition for the morning, so I rose and said, “We have a long day ahead, and many more after that. I’m going to get some sleep.”

  “Goddess give you good rest. I’m going to put a few more finishing touches on this place and turn in after that. I’ll make sure to sleep in a different room so you’ll have privacy. Which one are you in?”

  “Last one down the hall.”

  “Noted. See you in the morning.”

  “Good rest.”

  And halfway out of the hall, I felt a tug on my heart to stay a bit longer. I ruthlessly ignored it and kept going, paying attention instead to the other tug on my heart, which told me to flee. Because if I stayed I would inevitably do or say something I would forever replay in my mind in a carousel of embarrassment.

  I spread my bedroll out on the chosen slab near the floor and blew out the candle. In the darkness, I admitted to myself that I liked Curragh. A lot. After knowing him for one whole day.

  It was probably just a reaction to Tarrech’s death. You’re feeling desperate and lonely, I told myself. And maybe a bit drunk. The one thing I’d held on to for so long was gone, and what was it anyway? A feeling. A ball of yearning and self-denial I’d nurtured since my Colaiste days and placed on a pedestal. I supposed it kept me safe in some ways, but it also left a void.

  You can’t have it all, Tuala. You can have something, though. I mean, something besides the Good Shit from Aelinmech.

  Tears spilled out of my eyes again, and this time I let them run where they would.

  I will remember every endearing thing Tarrech ever said or did. And I will also regret never telling him how I felt. We could have been…well. I don’t know if we ever could have been. I don’t know if Curragh and I can ever be either. He might not be so charming on day two as he was on day one.

  But it is time, I thought, that I make some different unforgettable memories. Embarrassing ones, perhaps. But not more memories of shrinking back and doing nothing. I have had enough of those. My mind overflows with nothing.

  * * *

  —

  In the morning, I voiced my hope to Curragh that we’d reach the river we were supposed to find sooner rather than later.

  “My canteen is a bit low,” I said.

  “No need to worry about it. After you went to bed last night, I made a well in the kitchen.”

  “What kitchen?”

  “I made that too. Not sure how clear the water’s going to be. It might not have had time enough to settle.”

  “Never mind that. How are you going to get it out of there? I didn’t see you bring a bucket.”

  “But I did bring a good length of rope in my pack. I made a small bucket out of very thin stone. Made a pitcher and basin for each of the privies. Didn’t do much else, though. Absolutely nothing decorative. I was too tired.”

  “I should imagine so.”

  “Help me out with it?”

  I nodded and he led me back to the kitchen, which he’d added on to the hearth hall. It had another hearth and chimney and, as promised, a sheltered well with a stone crossbar over it. The bucket of thin stone was sitting on the edge of the well, a gorgeous polished thing of browns, tans, and reds.

  “Nothing decorative? This is beautiful.”

  “Thanks. But the rest of the kitchen is pretty basic.”

  That was true, at least. There was a stone prep table and some bench storage lockers to cache supplies and keep them safe from little critters. Future visitors would have to make improvements as they wished, but Curragh had provided the foundation for a fantastic refuge along this trail.

  The rope he’d mentioned was coiled on the prep table. He tossed one end over the crossbar to me and I tied it to the handle of the bucket, which had a pour spout. Once the knot was secure, I guided the bucket gently over the center of the well and Curragh lowered it until he heard a splash. It wasn’t that far down, since we were already underground.

  The water we pulled up was cloudy, as he’d suspected, but the silt would settle down soon enough.

 
“We need to get a hygienist out here to test it,” I said.

  “Some other trip for sure. Looks like we’ll need to find that river soon after all.”

  We dumped it back in and Curragh tied off the rope on the side of the well, leaving the bucket hanging. We shared a shy breakfast of jerky and dried fruit, and then we packed up, Curragh put on his dusty armor, and we emerged to begin the second day of roadwork.

  I still liked him at the end of it.

  And at the end of the third, and fourth, and so on.

  We found the river and replenished our canteens, after boiling the water out of an excess of caution. Not a day passed in which we were not attacked several times by animals, but thankfully not by a gravemaw. Still, anyone coming this way would need to be heavily guarded.

  I was usually able to track down a couple of snowshoe hares or a wild turkey or something for our evening meal, but we subsisted on dry rations otherwise.

  Each bunker Curragh made was a bit different, but he made no more wells, since we were right next to the river. He did create smooth landings down to it, however, so that horses and oxen could reach it easily and water could be hauled up to the bunkers by humans.

  He spent some time making fine polished-stone nameplates for each bunker, according to Viceroy Khusharas’s wishes, and he always created a beautiful pitcher and basin for the privies. Otherwise, his designs were simple, utilitarian, and—most important out here—safe from predators.

  During my nightly ritual cleansing and polishing of my armor, we would trade stories of beautiful places we’d visited. I told him about other countries, mostly Brynlön’s unexpected bucolic river lands and Ghurana Nent’s vast dry plains, the land stretching away in golds and tans like a warm, sunbaked blanket. He told me of roads off the main trails I traveled in Rael that led to small villages rarely marked on maps—a collection of services and a market, really, to serve a number of ranches and farms spread out along a vast area all along the roots of the Godsteeth. He told me of grassy green hills dotted with sheep, quilted patches of corn and beans and cabbage. And in one valley of the Huntress Range, a vast herd of wild horses roamed undisturbed, and when they moved, the thrumming of their hooves could be felt in the soles of your own feet. I vowed to visit it someday.

  Each night we slept in different rooms, and each night I wished I knew how to signal my willingness to change that without embarrassing either one of us.

  He clearly enjoyed my company, but I couldn’t tell if he wished for anything more than friendship. He gave me no clues; he remained utterly professional and polite, which may have meant he was hiding his true feelings or it may have meant he truly wasn’t interested.

  It occurred to me that I was behaving in precisely the same way to him: polite and professional but never hinting that I wanted anything else. He might be wishing for more but was too afraid of giving offense and perhaps souring what was otherwise a delightful and interesting job.

  We might both be denying ourselves bliss out of respect. Which was sad and sweet at the same time. Or I might be imagining everything, except my inability to flirt. That was very real, unfortunately.

  * * *

  —

  When we arrived, a bald Hathrim woman named La Mastik welcomed us to the Nentian city of Malath Ashmali. And then we were hit by one surprise after another.

  They had suffered only a single casualty from an animal on their way north and nothing since arriving, because they had a young man among them who’d found the Sixth Kenning.

  He’d used that Sixth Kenning to save some foreign sailors from a kraken attack.

  He could also prevent future kraken attacks. The people of our continent could safely cross the oceans. With his help, Rael could strike back against the Bone Giants.

  That meant the world was going to change. More than it already had. And my light duty of unimportant work was suddenly the most important assignment I’d ever been given.

  I spent a lot of time over the next few days with Fintan and Koesha, the leader of the Joabeian crew, getting caught up on what had happened so that I could report both to the viceroy and the Triune Council. The young man they called the plaguebringer, Abhinava Khose, gave me a letter for the viceroy, which he said should be read before I talked about him or his abilities. Then I was to give the viceroy a collection of enchanted wooden stakes that would repel animals and free the citizens of Ghuli Rakhan from living surrounded by walls.

  There was no viceroy here but rather a steward and a council, both recently elected. It looked like there was tension on the council between some Hathrim members and the Nentians, but the Nentians didn’t have any problems with Olet Kanek being the steward. Curragh spent his time with Steward Kanek and her council discussing infrastructure projects that he could help them with, such as building a forge and a kiln and a Brynt-style sewer system.

  “Let’s build a Raelech embassy here,” Curragh said at the end of our third day. We were a block away from the city hall, near the edge of the drop-off that led to the beach but was not completely exposed. We could see the Northern Yawn through a screen of tree trunks. “We’ll make that our quarters, and Fintan will have a room as well. And when you return to Killae, you can tell them they need to assign a diplomat here as soon as possible.”

  “When I return? You’re not coming back with me?”

  Curragh shook his head. “I don’t think so. There is plenty of work for me here. A chance to do things I’ve never done before. A chance to put a lasting design imprint on a new city, you know? I can be founding builder and do much to establish goodwill for Rael here. It’s not an opportunity that comes along all that often. It’s a once-in-a-lifetime thing, honestly.”

  Something wrenched inside my chest at that, a crushing of a hope I didn’t know I’d been harboring. I supposed I’d thought maybe we’d be able to continue our sort-of kind-of unspoken relationship in Rael, where I’d be able to ask someone for advice on how to flirt properly. But even if we did that, I mused, trying to spin the change positively, Curragh would often be on the road somewhere and I’d be on a different road somewhere else. If he remained in one place, I could see him more often, by requesting all jobs going to Malath Ashmali. And maybe it was for the best. Maybe with some time away I’d discover that I wasn’t really all that enamored of him and I was still reeling from Tarrech’s death.

  “I understand. That would be great for you. Maybe when they assign a diplomat, they’ll let me escort her back here.”

  “That would be my wish,” he said, nodding.

  I caught his eye, a shy smile forming. “Would it, now?”

  He looked down, suddenly interested in his clasped hands. “Yes.”

  I didn’t reply, just kept smiling at him and savoring the moment. I’d relive it later. Because there was so much to relive in moments like that. Flutters of hope and a swelling of euphoria, a whorl of giddiness and an internal scream of sheer terror because you’re hurtling down a dark tunnel and there might be either treasure or a gravemaw at the end of it.

  “Of course,” he said, “you should inform all the ambassadors in Killae that if their countries wish to build an embassy here, I’ll happily do so for standard rates. Olet and the council have already approved and set aside sites for each country. Basically, it’s all along this street.”

  “What street?”

  “This one right here. If you can’t see it, that’s because I haven’t made it yet.”

  “Ah. I understand now. Would you want me to escort those ambassadors here too?”

  “Yes.” He finally looked up and met my gaze. Whatever he saw must have encouraged him, because he cleared his throat, rather unnecessarily, and said, “I’d prefer it if you never left, actually. Though I know that’s impossible.”

  “And why would you prefer that, exactly?”

  “Well
, um.” He looked away again and visibly gulped. “I don’t want to say anything that would make you uncomfortable, so please stop me if I leap over a wall.”

  “I’m not stopping you. Do go on.”

  “Ah. Yes. Well. Tuala…I’ve never met someone so blessed with more than a blessing. Your devotion to the huntress is inspiring. You’re a formidable warrior, an impeccable courier, unfailingly polite, and a stunning beauty. So I’m helplessly smitten.”

  “Okay, Curragh, stop right there. Not because you jumped a wall, but because that was perfect. Except you need to kiss me now.” I gasped and my eyes flew wide, I was so surprised at my own brazenness. Had I really said that out loud?

  That amused quirk to his lips appeared briefly, and then he kissed me, soft and warm and…okay, maybe it was just a tiny bit too soft. I grabbed the back of his head and pressed him more firmly against me, so thirsty for something more tangible than wishes in a lonely bunk, and then he responded. He felt that way too. When we finally broke apart, gasping, a small ovation greeted us. Some Nentians and Hathrim had gathered to watch, which I thought was strange, but I supposed we hadn’t sought privacy either, so I couldn’t be mad, especially since they had clapped. We gave them a smile and a wave and proceeded to ignore them.

  “I’m going to sleep early because I need to leave at dawn,” I told Curragh, “but I’ll return as soon as I can. I don’t know that I can promise more than that. But I can say I wouldn’t mind some more perfect memories of moments like this. All right?”

  He nodded and then pressed his forehead against mine. “Good rest. Goddess grant you a safe and speedy journey. I’ll be waiting.”

  “Build us a beautiful embassy. I’ll look forward to staying there when I get back.”

  Going to sleep was such a peace and I slept so well. And that run back to Rael was along a brand-new road in more than one sense. I spent a night in the first bunker Curragh built—the one with the well—and pulled up the bucket. The water had settled and cleared, and I found some other clarity as well: I missed him and his dusty clothes.