I didn't think I'd be able to sleep at all that night, with all the thoughts whirling in my head, but the week's worth of exhaustion I'd been building up hit me all at once. Before I knew it, I was opening my bleary eyes to a handful of sun rays creeping through a window. I yawned and stretched. I had been coiled like a spring all night on the couch, and the kinks in my limbs bit back in protest.
Hawke was already in the kitchen, working with an iron skillet over the Kamsons' potbelly stove. He hummed an aimless tune as he flipped eggs and peppers into the air over and over. It smelled divine, especially considering it overpowered the acrid odor of the house.
“Good morning,” he said with a smile. “I just checked on Luke a little bit ago. He still seems to be doing okay.”
That pulled a smile from me. I was afraid of the news I was going to wake up to. Of course, I doubted that Hawke would be making omelettes if things had taken a turn for the worse.
He pulled out four plates from a cupboard and doled out the contents of the skillet onto them with deft flicks of his wrist. The power of the Scholar made Hawke a terrifying warrior, but it also gave him the most peculiar set of skills I'd ever seen in a single person.
He brought me a plate, as well as a mug full of steaming tea. I thanked him and downed both in just a few minutes. When you live most of your life off of hard rations, you don't waste the chance to enjoy a hot meal when you can take it.
“Would you mind taking those plates to their room?” Hawke asked. He was working on his own food much slower.
“Sure,” I said, eager to get up and work the knots out of my legs. I lacked the required number of arms to carry two mugs of tea and two plates all at once, but I managed to work around that by locking the plates to my arms, freeing my hands to grasp the mugs. Hawke looked at me funny, and I stuck my tongue out at him. After all, what was the point of having a power if I couldn't use it?
I hadn't thought about how I was going to open the door, though. Thankfully, it was slightly ajar, and I nudged it open with a bump of my hip. Winter was standing by the desk, tidying up the stacks of papers and books that cluttered it. I looked at Luke, relieved to see that a bit of color returned to his cheeks. Now he only looked like his usual pale self.
Winter turned as she heard my footsteps, and she gave me a grin. It wasn't her usual impish one, but it was more than she had given the day before. “Micky, good morning! Ooh, did you make us breakfast, you little sweetheart?”
“Morning,” I said, walking over so she could help relieve me of my burden. She sat on the edge of the bed to eat her breakfast while I placed Luke's on the bit of desk not covered in mess. “No, you can thank Hawke for this.”
“That guy has too many talents,” she said, spraying a bit of food on the floor. “Nobody likes a man who's too perfect.”
That got me to laugh. “If there's one thing I'd never call Hawke, it's perfect.”
“Still,” said Winter, “cooking, first aid, and who knows what else. He'd make a fine trophy wife for someone.”
The smile dipped from my face. “I don't think he thinks about finding someone, after…”
“Oh.” Winter swallowed her food and flushed. “I'm such an idiot. Sorry, Micky, sometimes my mouth moves faster than my brain.”
“It's certainly louder than your brain, that's for certain,” said a raspy voice.
We both startled a bit, whirling to find Luke looking around the room. He tried to pull himself into a sitting position, but that only made him wince, and he resigned himself to where he was. Winter gasped and tossed her plate aside, barely giving me time to catch it before it smashed to pieces on the floor. She squirmed up next to Luke and wrapped her arms around him.
“I would have slashed myself to pieces a long time ago, if I knew I would get breakfast in bed with a beautiful woman for it,” he said. He still sounded weak, but I took his jab as a sign he was feeling better. He looked at me and added, “At least, I hope that food is for me, yes?”
I snorted and handed him his breakfast. Winter gave him a look that was half-playful pout and half-scowl.
“You jerk! I was scared out of my wits all night, and the first thing you do when you wake up is ask for food?” she said.
“You're right,” he said. “I should be doing this.”
He brought his arm around her shoulders and pulled her into a kiss. Her false anger fell away immediately, and she closed her eyes to return it tenfold. I felt my face grow hot, and hurried to turn away. It didn't help that Luke wasn't wearing a shirt, and though he wasn't in his prime, it was still obvious he was far from out of shape. I felt like a voyeur.
“Oops. Sorry, Micky,” said Winter. The impishness crept back into her tone. “Didn't mean to go all mushy with you standing there.”
“Oh, crap,” said Luke. “Winter, find me some damn clothes before I die of embarrassment here.”
I heard Winter stand and shuffle around for a minute, with the sounds of drawers opening and closing. Luke made an indignant noise, and Winter replied with something that sounded like a growl. Then some rustling, and finally Luke cleared his throat.
“Alright, Micasa, I think I'm as decent as I'm going to get,” he said. I didn't like the sound of that, but cautiously peeked anyway.
He had slipped into a fluffy bright pink bathrobe tied loosely at his waist. I did my best to turn the laugh that erupted out of me into a convincing series of coughs. Luke turned an astonishing shade of purple.
“Yes, yes, let's all laugh at the infirm man with a wife with a cruel sense of humor,” he said, though for once he didn't sound all that chafed.
A snort came from the door. Hawke stood there, holding a fresh set of bandages with one hand while his other fought to cover his mouth. Luke's face contorted into something that could curdle milk.
“Can I at least have my hat?” said Luke, obviously trying not to shout. Winter quickly scooped it off the ground and planted it on his head, pausing only to tilt it at a jaunty angle. Luke tugged the fluffy robe tighter around himself with all the dignity he could muster.
“Well, if you're this lively, it's safe to say my treatment did some good after all,” said Hawke.
“Could be worse, I suppose,” said Luke. Coming from him, that was the closest I'd heard to a compliment about Hawke. My companion smiled.
“We will need to change those bandages soon,” said Hawke. “Best to tread lightly, at least until Uraj comes back with help.”
“Both of you here again,” Luke muttered. “I'd hoped I had seen the last of you two for a long while when you left.” He sighed, and some of his grumpiness deflated out of him. “Ironic, though. If you two had stuck around a while longer, all this might not have happened.”
Hawke and I looked at each other. This was what we came to learn in the first place. He looked reluctant to ask, undoubtedly nervous he might prod Luke's temper and silence him. I took a deep breath and decided to do the hard work for him.
“What happened here, Luke?”
He wrinkled his nose, staring determinedly at the wall. Winter fidgeted a bit, and Luke's hand moved to hold hers without him looking. We all stood there for a while, not moving, not speaking.
“That man was a monster,” said Luke at last. He glanced at Winter, then to me, then to Hawke. He didn't look away, this time. “I thought I had seen the worst that essence could do. That…beast proved me wrong, though.”
Hawke nodded and knelt beside the bed. Luke waited to see if he'd say anything, but Hawke looked content to let the writer say his piece.
“It was, what, about a week ago now?” Luke said, unsure. He looked to Winter for confirmation.
“Week and a half,” she said. “You've been drifting in and out of consciousness.”
“Week and a half, then,” he agreed. He turned back to Hawke. “We heard some commotion coming from the central square. In a town like this, any sort of loud noise other than the church bell is a sign something's amiss, so Winter wanted to go check it out.”
Luke f
rowned. “She's damn good at sneaking, but I didn't want her wandering around alone if something was going down. So, I threw on a white robe, too, and we headed out together.
“We saw immediately, things were horribly wrong. A whole lot of buildings were on fire, and nobody looked like they were trying to put them out. It was time for midday prayer, so most of the people on the streets were like us, just peeking their heads out to see what the fracas was all about. Some people were running away from the square, and we heard more screaming.
“So, Winter helps me sneak around through some of her favorite dark alleyways. On our way, we see some of the white robes in the streets, hurling lanterns into the buildings. They were torching the cities themselves! Neither of us could figure out what the hell they were thinking. We avoided them as best we could and crept right up to the square. That's when we saw the first body.”
Luke shuddered on reflex. “He was in the same way I am, only in a much more mortal way. Just a mess of bloody gashes and holes. And that was just the first one.
“There were at least a score more just like him in the square, scattered all over the place. Everything reeked of smoke and blood. And standing in the center of it all was him, cackling like a madman, a bloody rapier clutched in his hand.”
“What did he look like?” Hawke asked. I flinched, expecting Luke to get upset, but he didn't mind in the least.
“Tall and thin, grossly thin.” Luke pursed his lips as his mind worked. “Wispy white hair, like a corpse's. Pale bluish skin, gross watery eyes. He was wearing soiled rags instead of clothes. Oh, and that stupid nose.” He put the tip of his thumb to his nose. “It was at least this long, I swear. I would have laughed myself to tears if he hadn't clearly been on a murder spree.”
Hawke nodded. “That definitely sounds like Bojangles,” he said.
Luke's mouth dropped open. “Were you looking for this guy all this time?”
“He had something we were looking for,” I said. I didn't want to derail Luke from his story too long, and I didn't know how much Hawke was willing to tell about the Conclave.
“Well, we all had shit luck then, didn't we,” Luke said, running a hand through his hair.
“So, what happened? Did he find you?” said Hawke.
“Well, not exactly,” said Luke. “One of those mangled bodies wasn't dead. The nose guy - what did you call him, Boyanglee? - Well, he sees the guy squirming and starts screaming something about dirty peasants ruining his kingdom.”
So somehow Bojangles got the idea that Liturgy was built over the ruins of Ravoso. That got me curious. “Luke, do you know if this town was built over an old ruin?”
He looked at me and shook his head. “Up until about nine or ten years ago, this land was all unsettled wilderness. It's why the folk built here. They didn't want to risk some lord coming in and trying to reclaim an old keep or whatnot.”
“But he seemed certain this place was his kingdom?” I asked. Luke nodded. “Then what got that idea into his head?”
“Who knows?” said Hawke. “He seemed certain that the other ruin we found him in wasn't Ravoso. Luke's probably right: he was just insane.”
“Well, whatever it was, he kept ranting that he was going to purge the place and start anew,” Luke continued. “Then he tosses the rapier in his hand to the guy bleeding out and leans in. I saw his mouth move, but I couldn't hear what he said. The guy on the ground picks up the rapier, and I expect him to try and attack Mr. Nose. Suddenly, the guy shoves the blade through his own chest!”
Luke looked at us pointedly, expecting some sort of reaction. When neither Hawke nor I so much as batted an eye, he looked almost disappointed.
“I'm guessing you know how he could do that?” he said.
“Bojangles had the power of suggestion,” Hawke explained. “He probably told the man to kill himself with the sword. We had firsthand experience with his power before.”
Luke's eyes widened. “No shit? Well, that might explain the arsonists…”
“So, what happened then?” Hawke said eagerly.
“I'm getting there! Anyways, Winter knew he had a power, as she's trafficked with those kinds before.” Winter punched him in the arm, but he ignored it. “She tells me this, and I start saying we need to get the hell out of town. That's when I notice that she slipped off in the second I looked away.”
Winter looked genuinely regretful. Luke glared at her from the corner of his eye, but it was the kind of look that said, 'You had me scared out of my mind.'
“So,” said Luke, “I figured the only reason she'd done it was because she planned on having a dagger make acquaintance with this crazy man's heart.” He stopped for a second and looked at me guiltily. I'd forgotten that they didn't know I had been informed of Winter's old occupation.
“Hawke already told me about that,” I told him, “though I don't know why you kept it a secret.”
“Sorry, Micky,” said Winter. “I don't like to talk about those days a lot.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest and refused to meet my eye.
“Don't worry about that,” I said hurriedly, “but did you really try and take on Bojangles by yourself?”
She shrugged. “I've killed people with powers before. I can do that thingy that makes weapons sharper, like what Hawke does with his sword. Even the strongest fighter goes down from a knife in the ol' ticker.” She made a stabbing motion with her hand.
“Right, and I knew that's what she was going to do,” said Luke. “But I panicked. Winter's way stronger than me, I won't lie, but she's not invincible, and there was the double risk of the baby. I assume she thought she could just creep in, give him a tap on the back, and that's that.”
“So the idiot walked right out onto the street and called out the lunatic,” Winter chimed in. She gave Luke a taste of his own glaring medicine, and even though he didn't see her looking at him, he visibly wilted under her stare.
“Well, what kind of man would I be if I cowered and hid while the love of my life - carrying my child, no less - went to face a killer!?” he blurted. Her eyes narrowed, but by the blush creeping up her neck I could tell she was pleased with her description.
“Yeah, I called the guy out,” Luke said. “I figured, if nothing else, I could cause enough distraction that Winter would have time to do her work. The guy looks at me and gives me this sneer like I'm some crap he just found on the bottom of his shoe. I think, that's good, let him underestimate me. I start trying to talk to him, but he holds his hand up. I went quiet, hoping to get him talking to distract him more.”
Hawke's face went rigid, and he swallowed hard. “You stopped to listen to him?”
Luke seemed confused by the question, but after a second his face lit up, then immediately darkened.
“Well, after what you told me, of course that sounds like a stupid thing to do,” he said. “But seeing as how I didn't know, it's not fair to act like I was stupid.”
“Of course it was stupid. In a fight against a power user, not knowing their power is practically suicide,” said Hawke.
Luke glowered at that. “No matter what you say, I don't regret my decision. I wasn't going to let Winter take him on alone, and I never would. Anyways,” he stressed the word to indicate the matter was closed, “he pulls his sword out of the dead guy and points it at me. Tells me that a dirty vagabond has no right to approach their superiors. I'm letting him ramble on, but that's when the situation went sour fast.
“He…” Luke paused, trying to collect his thoughts. “He said something along the lines of, 'You're so beneath me, you haven't even noticed I already stabbed you through the legs in the time we've been talking.' I thought he had gone completely out of his head, but then my legs exploded in pain.” He tapped just above both his knees, where those terrible puncture wounds were.
“Bojangles moved faster than you could even see?” I said in awe. Essence could certainly make a person faster and stronger, but to make them so fast they couldn't be tracked by the eye sounded te
rrifying.
“No,” said Winter, “the guy didn't move at all. I was watching the whole time. I would have noticed. His essence did something weird, though.”
Hawke's mouth dropped open. “No, that's ridiculous,” he said. Luke was about to chew him out, but it was clear that Hawke had been muttering to himself, not us. “Yet with his power, it just might be…”
“Wait.” I had an idea what Hawke was considering. “You're thinking his power did that?”
“It seems absurd, but if he can convince someone to fall on a blade willingly, what's to stop him from believing their knees burst out from under them?” he said.
Luke gestured towards his legs again. “Convinced me nothing! You just cleaned these wounds out last night! They're as real as real gets!”
“He didn't convince you in the normal sense,” Hawke said. “He convinced your body itself that it had been damaged, to the point where the wounds became real.”
“You're saying my legs tore themselves open because I believed he did it?” When Luke put it that way, it did sound like the most absurd thing I'd ever heard.
But I'd seen a man catch on fire and come out unscathed. I'd seen a person absorb wounds from someone else to take on as their own. I'd seen enough madness in my life to believe just about anything.
“So how did you get away from him?” asked Hawke.
“I didn't,” said Luke. “After my legs gave out, he came up to me and started carving up my chest. He was enjoying it, the sick bastard. I couldn't hear my own damn screams over his laughing. Then he stopped and turned. I'm laying there, gasping for breath, and I manage take a look to see what stopped him.
“And there's Winter, standing, frozen like a deer cornered by a wolf. She's got her dagger held up, ready to strike him, and she's not moving.”
“I'm sorry,” whispered Winter. “I got careless. I saw him doing those things to you and I rushed too much. He probably felt me coming, that's why he turned. When I saw just how bad you were hurt, I sort of lost it.” Rage and guilt bloomed over her face.
“That monster turned on her and pointed his sword,” Luke growled. “He pointed his sword at Winter, and I saw the gleam in his eye. He was going to do the same thing to her that he did to me - no, probably worse. He was an animal full of lust and hunger. Then I…”
Savants of Humanity (The Scholar's Legacy Book 2) Page 15
