Blood Rain

by Nancy Gray

Beryl’s shadow shrugged. “Well, maybe we can take her with us. When do you think she’ll wake up?”

  “I really don’t know. She might not wake up at all.”

  “But she seemed to be doing so much better last night. We got most of the poison out, and her fever has finally broken.”

  “Yes, but she lost a lot of blood. It looked like she was bitten four times by the Blood Wings, and that vigor ash root is nasty stuff. She was able to push herself to get here, but she tore several muscles because of it.”

  Mercy cringed, realizing that was why she was in so much pain. She was craving another root and the fact that she had pushed her body so hard was finally catching up with her.

  Pyron continued, “If she does wake up, I don’t envy her the pain she’ll be in. I traced her steps a little bit last night. She killed one of the bat winged beast men right before she got to the lighthouse. She was wearing leather armor instead of chitin, so she probably isn’t a warrior, a scout maybe. I also found another pack of supplies and the remains of a dead vitula further down the trail.”

  Mercy felt a pang of guilt and sadness at the thought of Nightsong, but she quickly pushed it out of her mind. She needed to stay focused enough to pick up on any useful information she might overhear.

  “A pack of supplies, huh? So, maybe she’s a trader then?”

  Mercy heard the sound of her bag being tossed unceremoniously on the wooden table. From the shadows playing on the wall, Beryl was rummaging through it. She could feel his curiosity.

  Pyron put the bag back on the ground as Beryl finished looking through it. “I don’t think so. She had a few things to trade, but the pack isn’t big enough for her to make much money.”

  “Do you think we can trust her?”

  Pyron made an exasperated gesture with his arms. “I don’t know. I don’t even know why she’s here. We should’ve left her out there.”

  Mercy felt a flash of hot anger from Beryl as he snapped, “You would’ve just left her there to die? All of your kind are the same.”

  “You’re forgetting that our mission is too important to be jeopardized by one girl. We’re talking about preventing a war.”

  “A war which is being caused by the loss of one man. All of you have such a disdain for life. It sickens me.”

  Mercy could feel their tempers starting to flare, like a flame catching on dried kindling. She wondered if she should make them aware that she was awake but decided against it. It seemed that one of them already regretted rescuing her.

  “Damn it, Beryl, I don’t feel good about this arrangement either, but we have to work together and hearing you bitch about how ‘we’re all the same’ is getting pretty old. It’s amazing your people have even survived this long. They’re too trusting and so are you.”

  Beryl was silent for a moment. Mercy felt his emotions, a sort of mixture between shame and acknowledgement. He felt that Pyron was right.

  Beryl cleared his throat. “We were talking about the girl.”

  “Well, I do have a theory about that. Since it looked as though she was attacked by the beast men, they probably were in blood frenzy because of the rain.”

  “Blood frenzy? What is that?”

  “When one of the Blood Wings tastes blood or smells it very strongly, sometimes it will lose control of its senses and will start biting anything in its path. You know, the way sharks react when there’s blood in the water.”

  Beryl said in a bitter tone, “That I know.”

  “They don’t always frenzy, but it literally rained blood. My guess is that with that much blood in the air, they couldn’t control it and attacked her village in mass. She’s probably either come to ask the capital for aid, or simply fled the village to get to safety.”

  “From what you’ve told me, relations between your people and hers are kind of strained. I doubt she’s come to ask for the help of the Ashen Peoples’ capital. She nearly went crazy when you tried to bathe her.”

  “She was delirious with fever.”

  “And the fact she’s an attractive young girl and you’re young enough to be interested in her, had nothing to do with it at all? From what you told me, your race has also been known to enslave her kind.”

  Mercy relaxed a bit when she felt Pyron’s awkward embarrassment. She tried to remember them attempting to bathe her, but everything was blurry, probably an effect of the root as well as the fever. She did remember the revulsion she felt. She thought Pyron brought in a woman later to help her bathe, and the woman was the one that actually scrubbed her skin with a washrag.

  Pyron nodded with acknowledgement. “She almost broke my jaw. Good thinking on your part, by the way.”

  “Well, if I can’t use my gift for something that easy, what good am I?”

  Pyron laughed. “It bothers me that doing that was so easy for you. Then I guess you’ve had practice?”

  Mercy felt Beryl’s embarrassment. “I’ve been in plenty of situations where I’ve had to appear to be something I’m not. It worked, didn’t it?”

  Mercy frowned, suddenly wondering what Beryl’s gift actually was or if he was referring to a skill rather than an actual inherited gift. Perhaps he disguised himself as a woman. In her delirious state, she might have fallen for a disguise. She didn’t remember much about her time in the lighthouse at all. She didn’t even remember actually reaching it.

  “All joking aside, I don’t think I could’ve bathed her without your help. Good thing we did, too. Those wounds were looking pretty bad, and I couldn’t tell her blood from the rain.”

  She sensed more embarrassment as Beryl said in a whisper, “Why did she have all of those tattoos?”

  Pyron laughed. “Oh, so you were looking too. I guess I’m not the only one young enough to be interested.”

  “Well, I had to see what I was doing. It’s just that my people don’t usually get tattoos. I’ve never really seen one like the one on her back before. That spiral design was intriguing.”

  “I don’t really know too much about it. It’s something having to do with their culture, or maybe it’s their religion. I sometimes get the facts about their people confused. Anyway, they’re called waranin.”

  Mercy was surprised. Pyron used the word from her own language, and pronounced it perfectly. According to her elders, most of the Ashen People thought it was beneath them to learn the language of the slaves, especially a word that was specific to their culture. It seemed Pyron knew more about her culture than most, odd for someone simply working in a lighthouse.

  “It means honor mark, but it’s a little more complex than that. The most valuable people in her society are covered with colored tattoos, the more important the status, the more elaborate the tattoos. I’m guessing that since she has one at all, she’s probably some sort of apprentice for an important job, but she hasn’t done anything to prove herself yet.”

  “Maybe that’s what she’s doing here.”

  “That could be. If she isn’t here to ask for aid, or to flee, she could be looking for the source of the rain just like we are.”

  “In which case, it wouldn’t hurt for us to take her along.”

  Mercy felt Pyron’s sudden suspicion. “I didn’t say that. Let’s just find out why she’s here and go from there. I’m going to go check up on her. If she hasn’t woken up, we’ll have to tilt her head back and feed her more broth like last night.”

  Mercy felt a respectful feeling emanating from Beryl. “You were very gentle with her. For someone with your occupation, I think you’re not as cold as you like to act.”

  “Don’t underestimate me. I do what needs to be done, no matter what the situation. I’ve nursed people back to health before, and I’ve killed people, too.”

  “I’m well aware of that. I’m just saying, I don’t think that you regret rescuing the girl.”

  Mercy reached for the bowl of broth, upon realizing that Beryl was right. Pyron didn’t regret rescuing her at all. He even emanated a feeling of warmth and worry when he thou
ght about her that was unusual, like a child trying to nurse a baby bird back to health. She didn’t have much time to reflect on his feelings. She could hear his footfalls as he got up from the table.

  She had to decide how she was going to treat him and how much she should let on that she knew. Mercy decided it would be better if they didn’t know about her gift or the fact that she heard their conversation, but she didn’t see the harm of telling them why she was there. If they were searching for the source of the rain, then they had a common goal, at least for now.

  Pyron walked in and blinked in surprise. Mercy was in the process of drinking the entire bowl of broth. When she put the bowl down, she acted startled and shifted so that her back was against the wall and she was facing him.

  Pyron said in the common language, “It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Mercy responded in the common language as well, “Who are you? Where am I, and how did I get here?”

  “You’re inside the lighthouse. You ambled out of the forest and were about to bleed to death. My name is Pyron.”

  “My name may be hard for you to pronounce. You can call me Mercy.”

  Beryl came up behind Pyron. “Good. She’s awake. I told you she seemed better.”

  “This is my friend, Beryl.”

  Mercy felt an unspoken irritation at the word friend. Neither of them considered one another “friends.” They didn’t trust each other enough for the word to be appropriate. She pretended not to notice.

  “As I said, you may call me Mercy. You rescued me. I am grateful.”

  Beryl’s face flushed with pride, but Pyron seemed to be gathering his thoughts. Even though he hadn’t spoken yet she could tell that he was trying to figure out what he wanted to ask her, or some way to entrap her into answering a question she normally would avoid.

  Beryl didn’t seem to notice. “It was what anyone would have done, given the situation. It looked like you had really been through something terrible. Here, let me get you some more broth. You’ll need your strength.”

  “How long have I been sleeping?”

  Pyron spoke up, “You’ve been asleep for nearly four days. It’s two in the morning on the third night you’ve stayed here.”

  Mercy nearly panicked. “NO! I can’t have slept that long. What I’m searching for is too important…”

  “Calm down. You’re lucky that you awoke at all. You lost a great deal of blood. We were afraid you wouldn’t make it. What are you searching for?”

  “The cause of the blood rain.”

  Beryl stood in the doorway with another bowl of broth. He brushed past Pyron and put it on the table next to Mercy, then poured her a mug of tea. Mercy gratefully drank the tea. The warmth of it spread through her body. The few chills melted away and it even made her muscles feel better.

  “We’re searching for the cause of the rain as well.”

  Pyron gave Beryl a dirty look as he spoke but simply nodded in agreement.

  Mercy said in between sips of tea, “My chieftain entrusted me with this task. I need to prove myself worthy of his trust. I can’t return to my village until I’ve found the truth.”

  Mercy thought miserably, “From what I saw, there might not be a village to return to…”

  Pyron raised an eyebrow. “It seems pretty harsh to send a young girl into the blood rain while a pack of Blood Wings are attacking the village, even to find out what caused it. Surely, that would be the job of a warrior.”

  “I’m the fastest rider in my village and the apprentice to our shaman. He sent me because he thought I would have the best chance of escaping them. We were attacked by more than the usual amount of raiders, and they were all in frenzy because of the rain.”

  Pyron said, “I’m sorry. Did you also come to ask for assistance?”

  “My village is large enough to handle itself, but if these unusual storms continue, the Blood Wings might become bolder and all of the creatures might attack. The sooner I find out the cause, the better. I’ve already wasted too many days.”

  Beryl said with a kind smile, “I’m afraid you’ll have to waste more time than that. You need more rest. Try to get back to sleep if you can. We have a contact we’re going to meet with tomorrow night who might be able to tell us...”

  Pyron said in a savage whisper, “Beryl, can I talk to you for a moment?”

  Beryl said, “Excuse me, Mercy,” and walked into the hallway with Pyron.

  Mercy overheard their argument. Their whispers in the Ashen tongue were raised by their anger just loud enough for her to interpret what they were saying.

  Pyron snapped, “Fool. Did you fail to realize that she isn’t telling us the full truth? I believe she really is looking for the cause of the rain, but this isn’t a simple honor quest like she wants us to believe.”

  “Well, whatever her motivations are, what could be the harm in letting her come with us to find out more? We both agreed that she can’t stay here alone, and I don’t think she’d be safe in the city by herself.”

  “She isn’t a pet, Beryl. We can’t simply keep her. You’re forgetting who our contact is. I somehow don’t think they’ll get along.”

  “They don’t have to get along. I don’t like him either, but if he has information that would be useful to all of us, I think it couldn’t hurt for her to be there.”

  “Have you forgotten our real mission? You need to find the ambassador before it’s too late. The rain might not have anything to do with it. All we have to go on is speculation. What will we do with the girl if this turns out to be unrelated to the rain? We can’t let her go if she knows too much.”

  “How dare you accuse me of forgetting why I’m even here? He was my charge, not yours. Your people nearly killed me and all I was trying to do was help them prevent a war.”

  Mercy saw Pyron’s silhouette as he stepped a little closer to Beryl, his manner becoming threatening. “You accused them of kidnapping him to start a war. What did you think they were going to do? A foreigner comes into the Ashen capital spouting nonsense about a missing emissary and flat out accusing them of causing another war, and you thought they wouldn’t interrogate you?”

  “You just don’t want to bring the girl in on it because you think she’s too stupid to do us any good.”

  “No, I think she’s hiding things from us. I don’t want to bring anyone in on this who isn’t being entirely honest with us, or who is representing another nation, tribal or not.”

  Mercy felt her temper flaring. She hated it when people talked about her as though she wasn’t there. And, it seemed that she really didn’t have any choice but to trust them. If their contact had any information about the cause of the rain, she needed to be there to meet him.

  Mercy said loudly in the Ashen language, “It’s very rude to talk in another language in front of someone.”

  Even though Mercy couldn’t see Pyron, she could feel his fear. It was the fear of a man who had suddenly stepped on a snake.

  Mercy continued, “I’m sorry for the deception. But I also had to make sure that I could trust you.”

  Beryl and Pyron came back into the room with stunned expressions on their faces.

  “How do you know my language?”

  “The chieftain had my mentor teach me.”

  Beryl seemed nervous as he stammered. “What did you hear?”

  “I heard enough, but I’m not going to interfere in affairs that are none of my concern. I came to find the source of the rain. Let me go with you to meet your contact, and then I’ll leave you alone.”

  Pyron nodded. “Where will you go after that?”

  “I’ll stay in Concord in The Park, the section of town that contains mostly my own kind.”

  Beryl frowned. “Have you ever been to Concord before?”

  “No, though I’ve heard a great deal about it from the few people who have come to trade with my village.”

  “Hearing about something and actually seeing it are two very different things. Concord
is a very diverse city, but it can be dangerous for someone new to a port town…”

  Pyron interrupted him, “Still, clearly she has her heart set on meeting our contact,” He turned to Mercy and said, “I know that we won’t be able to dissuade you. We’ll show you around town and take you with us.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate the gesture.”

  Pyron said with a bitter smile, “It was foolish of me to assume that you didn’t know my language, but then, you seem to be full of surprises. It’s only fitting I should show you some courtesy, in exchange for your silence about anything else you might have overheard. Do we understand each other?”

  Mercy smiled wryly. “Yes, I understand.”

  “There’s something else you should probably know. I have a feeling you won’t trust our contact anyway, so coming with us might not do you any good.”

  “You both seem like you’re doing this for a very important reason. I’m sure you wouldn’t waste time on a contact that couldn’t be useful. I’ll trust your judgment. Besides, what sort of man could be so offensive to me that I wouldn’t be willing to listen to him at all?”

  Pyron’s eyes glittered in amusement. “Our contact is one of the Blood Wings.”

  6

  Mercy wasn’t comfortable at all in the chained collar. She knew it wasn’t really locked and that she could simply yank it open if she wanted to at any time, but it still made her feel humiliated and angry. Pyron seemed to have some sort of sick satisfaction about leading her around the city in that fashion as well, which was making her want to slap the smug expression from his face with every single step. She guessed it had something to do with the fact that he felt her presence there was unnecessary and a burden. Before they left, once again he tried to dissuade her from going but she had insisted. And so, she was going disguised as his slave.

  The buttons on his military uniform, along with his military honor pins, glittered in the setting sun and she still had trouble believing that she was staring at the same man she met the previous evening. He was wearing a wig that was grayish-white, like the ashes left on charcoal and somehow his eyes seemed a shade lighter, an albino pink. His skin tone seemed to be black now, the color of soot. She found out by accidentally brushing up against him once that soot was exactly how he achieved the effect. He also appeared to be wearing some sort of false nose that gave an angular look to his features.