Silver Ravens

by Jane Fletcher

  “I don’t give a toss about the market traders. Tell me about this powerful magician.”

  “Three, four days ago, that was the first time I felt it. Someone slipped into the weave. I couldn’t match the power and I was scared the magician would see me if I slipped in my own weave, but I was hungry. So I left my home and came to the market.”

  “If this is true, why haven’t the Derwyddon spotted the change in the weave as well?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Guess.”

  “It’s just an easy shift, slipping in soft. Fading it a little, like I try to do. This magician is so strong, they could tear the weave up, but they don’t. Just a little blend and then softening the edges.”

  “Damn.” Tamsin released her grip. The boggart flopped in a heap on the floor.

  “Did that make sense to you?” Lori asked.

  “Unfortunately, yes.”

  “Do you want me to see if I can raise Finn again, Captain?” Widget asked.

  “No. He may already have left to check out the bodies.” Tamsin prodded the boggart with the toe of her boot. “And we ought to check that what this little arsewipe has told us is true before we change plans.”

  “It’s true. It’s true, madam. I promise.” The words were muffled by the boggart’s own knees.

  “The area you used to live in. Where is it?”

  “I was between Northwold Bridge and the Goose Market.”

  “And that’s where the strong magician is?”

  “Maybe not the same street, but somewhere close.”

  “How close?”

  “I don’t know. Very close. I was frightened when I felt the weave shift.”

  Tamsin yanked the boggart back to a sitting position. “How close?”

  “Maybe the Goose Market. Maybe the next street over. Please. That’s all I know.”

  Tamsin released the boggart again. “So that’s where we go next. Scout out the area between Goose Market and the bridge.”

  “Do you think it’s Nysian?” Lori asked.

  “No. He doesn’t have the power or the skill to hide from the Derwyddon this close to the centre. More likely whoever murdered him and has come to Mud Town looking for more victims. Or maybe our thief is making it all up.”

  “No, no, no. it’s true. Please, madam.” The boggart was crying again.

  “What do you want to do with him?” Shorty asked.

  “Widget can keep an eye on him while we check it out. If the information is good, we let him go. If not, we turn him over to the guards.”

  * * *

  No geese were on sale in the Goose Market.

  “Are there ever?” Lori asked.

  “Once or twice a month, maybe.” Shorty sounded indifferent.

  Lori stood in the middle of the open square and looked around using her right eye. The houses were as decrepit as the rest of Mud Town. But why put time, money, and effort into doing a proper job, when you could get the same effect by illusion? Likewise the pockmarked, rubbish strewn gravel which, to her left eye, was level slabs of clean paving.

  However, the district was less crowded than other parts of town, making it a good out of the way spot for someone wanting to lie low. Most of the noise came from a group of children, playing a game using a dead rat in place of a ball. The only others present were a trickle of porters trundling through on their way to and from the bridge, and a huddled group of older boggarts, gossiping. They sent suspicious scowls in the direction of the three humans.

  The rat landed with a splat, a few inches from Shorty’s boot. “Watch where you’re throwing that fucking thing.”

  One of the children edged close enough to snatch up the rat, and then fled out of arm’s range.

  “Bloody spawn.”

  “It’s a shame they don’t have a real ball to play with,” Lori said.

  “They’re happier with the rat. You can’t eat a ball when you’ve finished playing with it.”

  Whether or not he was joking, he clearly had no sympathy for the young boggarts. Surely they deserved a better childhood, for however long it lasted. If King Segann was only in his mid twenties, they must grow up fast.

  “How old do you think they are?”

  “Maybe a year and a half.”

  “How long before they’re fully grown?”

  Shorty shrugged. “Three years or so.”

  “From now?”

  “From birth.”

  “How old before they become parents?”

  “Too fucking young. The females start popping them out…” He shrugged. “Who knows? Not something I want to think about. They screw like rabbits in heat. Just as well fathers don’t count for anything. None of them have a clue who their pa was.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes.”

  “So who’ll succeed King Segann?”

  “Whoever’s left standing when the fighting stops.”

  “Doesn’t he have a chosen heir?”

  “That’d be a quick way to get himself bumped off. The heir wouldn’t hang around, leaving it to old age. When Segann’s ready to kick the bucket, if he wants to pick someone, it’ll be one of his sisters’ spawn. He can sit by the bed and watch her pop them out. It’s his only hope of being sure he’s looking at blood kin.”

  Tamsin played no part in the conversation. She stood, fists on hips, watching the flow of boggarts through the square. “That’s the road where the thief used to live. We need to check the area.”

  “Okay.” Lori was about to follow Tamsin, but stopped. “Maybe we don’t need to go anywhere. From this angle it’s…” She caught her lip in her teeth.

  “What do you see?”

  “That door over there.” She pointed.

  “The one with the small brat sitting on the step?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about it?”

  “It’s completely boarded up when I look with my left eye. With my right, it’s sort of hazy.” She rubbed her eyes and looked again.

  “Seems normal to me,” Shorty said.

  “Which means somebody with a lot of power wants to keep other boggarts out.” Tamsin adjusted the set of her pistol on her hip. “Which in turn means I’m very keen to see what’s inside. Come on, let’s check it out.”

  The gang of children split left and right as the Silver Ravens approached. Only the child on the doorstep remained, frozen in place. Neither nose nor ears were yet pierced, but Lori felt sure the boggart was a girl. After a morning walking around Mud Town, the clues were easier to spot.

  The girl’s eyes stretched wide, and she pressed herself against the door, clearly frightened by the approaching humans. But no—it was not them. Something else had the girl transfixed. Lori turned to look back, just as screams erupted behind her.

  A huge multicolour demon stood in the square, complete with fangs, claws, and burning eyes. Its head was red, its body was blue, its legs were yellow, and its feet were green. It stood twelve feet tall, brandishing a long pole in one hand and a burning whip in the other. Shimmering globs of saliva dripped from its open mouth.

  The demon’s gaze riveted on the humans. Lori was about to shout a warning, even as she realised it was only visible with her left eye—an illusion, but it felt so real. Despite her better sense, panic swept over her, utter, blind, raw panic. And she was not the only one. Every boggart in the square could see the demon, and was victim to the avalanche of fear. Shrieks rang out.

  “Lori, what is it?” Tamsin shouted in her ear.

  “It’s…it’s…”

  The words would not come out. Fear clawed at her, senseless, primeval. The demon was coming for them, step by step. It roared at the sky, flinging back its head. Another step. It swung the pole, which passed though Tamsin, but struck Lori’s elbow in an explosion of agony. She screamed and dropped to her knees. Her arm was broken, cut to the bone. Her hand dangled useless.

  Suddenly, pain and demon were gone, and a cold weight lay around her neck. Tamsin had replaced the i
ron torc. Lori rubbed her hand, feeling the life in her fingers. The memory of terror retreated. The absurd monster had been so very real.

  “What is it?” Tamsin asked again.

  “An illusion. A demon was attacking us. But…” Lori sucked in a lungful of air. “I’m all right. It’s gone.”

  For her, but not for the boggarts. Most still ran screaming in panic, others lay petrified, curled on the ground. Two club wielding guards cowered at the opposite side of the square with their backs pressed against a wall. The child on the step had finally fled into the arms of a female boggart—mother, aunt, or older sister. The girl was dragged away down a side street, still staring back at the humans, wide-eyed.

  Tamsin shouted over the tumult. “It’s a distraction. Someone doesn’t want us to go through the door.”

  “I…” Lori’s legs lacked the strength to stand, and an aftershock kicked her stomach. She pressed her hand to her mouth.

  Tamsin put a hand on her shoulder. “We’re going in. Will you be all right on your own?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. I just need a few moments.”

  “Okay. Join us when you’re ready.”

  A kick from Shorty splintered the wooden frame and burst the door open. Tamsin followed him inside. The door swung back, although hanging noticeably less straight than before.

  Slowly, the pounding of Lori’s heart eased. The sounds in the square also softened and faded. She looked up. A few boggarts remained in view, but now they stood motionless, dazed and confused. The illusion had ceased, and the torc around her throat was no longer necessary. She could take it off. More illusions might need picking apart. But no, maybe later—not right now.

  Cautiously, Lori levered herself to her feet. Her legs were still shaking, but could support her weight. After another long deep breath, she pushed open the door. On the other side was a narrow room, scarcely wider than a corridor. Shutters on the window at the far end were flung back. The watery light revealed a space empty apart from broken crates and other strewn debris. There were no other exits.

  Tamsin knelt to one side, sifting through a pile of junk. She looked up. “How do you feel?”

  “Better.” On a closer look, Lori spotted blankets and a half loaf of bread amid the rubbish. “Somebody was living here?”

  “Was.” Tamsin emphasised the word.

  “Where’s Shorty?”

  “Checking outside.” Tamsin jerked her thumb at the window. “But I doubt there’s much to see. I’m hunting for clues. But we aren’t going to get much better than what happened. Someone wanted to slow us down and get a head start.” She rose and came to Lori’s side. “It wasn’t just a visual illusion, was it?”

  “No. I mean, there was sound as well. But more than that, the feeling of terror. I knew it was an illusion, but it took over. It…” She swallowed. “I don’t know how to sum it up.”

  “No need. “ Tamsin put her hands on Lori’s shoulders, turning her so they were facing each other. “I’m sorry. I heard you scream. It was…I wish I could have…” Her voice was soft and huskier than normal. Her eyes fixed on Lori’s face.

  “It’s all right. I wasn’t really hurt. I just thought I was.”

  Tamsin shook her head in denial. “No. You shouldn’t be here, dealing with this. I shouldn’t have let you come with us. I’m sorry.”

  “I was the one who asked.”

  “And I’m the one who should have said no.”

  How to explain that an imaginary broken arm was nothing compared to what might have happened back in Caersiddi? There was no point talking. Tamsin would not believe a word of it. Suddenly, the pain, the terror, the nausea, the absolutely stupidity of it all was too much—more than she could take. Don’t say anything.

  Lori moved forward, sliding her arms around Tamsin’s waist. Her head nestled into the hollow of Tamsin’s neck. All doubts were washed away, leaving a moment of desperately needed peace. Tamsin’s arms wrapped around her, holding her gently. The only sound was the thudding of their hearts and the whisper of breath between their lips.

  They stood, unmoving, until Lori heard the scuff of footsteps outside. She broke away as Shorty clambered in through the window.

  “Bastard did a fucking runner.”

  “Yes.” Tamsin’s voice regained its normal firmness. “And I don’t think there’s much more to learn here. Whoever was behind the illusion is powerful—amazingly so for a boggart. You could tell from how the others reacted. Boggarts understand illusion, but this had them going crazy. Normally, it takes a fay to have an effect like that.”

  “Could one of them be here?” Lori managed to keep her tone even.

  “No fucking chance.”

  “Shorty’s right. No fay would ever set foot in Mud Town, let alone live in a room like this. But it’s definitely not Nysian either. He doesn’t have the ability to pull this off. So…” Tamsin kicked a soiled blanket aside. “My guess is that bumping off Nysian was a trial run. Now the killer’s come to get their arse on the Mud Throne.” She headed to the door. “And we need the rest of the Silver Ravens back here, as quick as the horses can make it.”

  * * *

  Finn’s voice battled with an onslaught of hisses, whistles, and clicks. “There were seven dead. None could have been him. The only one about the right age was female. The males were all too young. They died—” A salvo of crackling swallowed his voice.

  “Finn. We lost you there. Can you repeat that last bit,” Tamsin shouted into the mike.

  “They died the same day Nysian went missing.”

  “That’s too much for coincidence. What did you learn about them?”

  “Just gossip.”

  The radio went silent for a moment and then BH came on. “Maybe just gossip. I heard one of the dead females used to work in Wydlow. She was Nysian’s housekeeper fo—” High pitched whistling drowned out the next words. “—nant, when she ca—” More whistling. “—ck home.”

  “So she might have picked up personal information about Nysian? Something worth killing her for?”

  Finn came back on. “She might.”

  An idea struck Lori. She leaned over the table and pulled the mike towards her. “BH, did you say she was pregnant when she returned from Wydlow?”

  “Yes.”

  “Do they know who the father was?”

  On the other side of the table, Tamsin shook her head. “Doesn’t matter. Boggarts don’t care about fatherhood.”

  “I know. Shorty told me. But it doesn’t matter what boggarts think. The genes get the casting vote.”

  “And?”

  “Magic runs in families. Just because Nysian’s weak, it doesn’t mean his children will be.” Lori shouted into the mike, “The baby was a girl?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she wasn’t among the dead?”

  “No. How did—” An eruption of hissing.

  Tamsin reclaimed the mike. “Finn. There’s no time now. We need you back here.”

  Nothing but static.

  “Finn. Did you hear that?”

  “Yes, Captain. We’re on the—” His voice was lost in a piercing squeal that shot up through the octaves.

  Widget adjusted the dials on the radio. “I don’t know if I can get him back.”

  “It’s okay. We’ve said all we need to.” Tamsin patted his shoulder, then turned to Lori. “You weren’t guessing when you asked about the girl, were you?”

  “No.”

  “So what? You’ve seen something that makes you think Nysian’s daughter killed the rest of her family?”

  “No. She’s too young.”

  “Boggarts grow up quickly.”

  Lori held her hand out to indicate the child’s height. “She was this tall.”

  “That’d be a quick developer. Boggarts don’t normally start bumping off their relatives until they’re at least a year old. Where did you see her?”

  “Sitting outside the house. She was staring at the demon. At the time, I thought she was frozen
with terror, but…” Lori probed the memory. “It didn’t feel right. I think she was the one creating the illusion.”

  “That would be amazing for one so young.”

  “Yes and no. The rainbow colours, the huge fangs, the big stick—it was a kiddie’s demon. It’s what you’d expect from a four-year-old with a packet of crayons.”

  “Don’t overestimate boggarts. Even adults can be infantile.”

  “Not like that. I’ve spent all day picking apart their illusions. I know what sort of images they come up with, and this demon was childish like nothing else I’ve seen so far.”

  Tamsin nodded. “I’ll take your word on it. You’ve been doing a good job as eyeball.”

  “Thanks.” Lori felt her face colouring.

  “I guess if the child’s that young, she’d be a soft target for Nysian to trick into doing what he wants.”

  “Or bully.” Lori rested her chin in the cup of her hand. “The mother was working for Nysian. He got her pregnant so she had to go back to her family.”

  “That’s the human in you talking. Annwyn is different. There’s no issues about females of any species having sex with whoever they want. But—” Tamsin held up her hand when Lori tried to interrupt. “It still works. She’d go back to her family for them to witness the birth.”

  Shorty cut in. “Like I said, the way they fuck around, the only thing any of them can be sure of is who their ma was.”

  “Or they watch their brothers and sisters get born, or their aunts give birth to their cousins. Boggarts take the witnessing of births seriously. A pregnant boggart would go home to her family and stay until the child could look after itself. Except this one was powerful enough to upend things.” Tamsin’s forehead knotted in thought. “As for how news got back to Nysian? Who knows? Maybe the mother was hoping to sell her. But when Nysian found out, it gave him ideas. He snatched his spawn, killed the mother and anyone else who could report him, then brought the youngster to Mud Town and settled in, waiting for a chance to…” Tamsin blew out her cheeks. “Kill Segann.”

  “Makes sense.” Widget nodded.