Shadow of the Raven (The Reckoning Book 1)

by Ward, Matthew

  "I'll bear that in mind." And I'd also be sure to test the truth of that statement, if I had to, rather than take his words at face value.

  "Anyway, where was I? Oh yes. Your inamorata..."

  "She's not my inamorata."

  Malgyne raised one perfect eyebrow. "Oh? My mistake. Your friend is graciously playing the role of collateral in our little trade. I decided that as you weren't terribly eager to bargain for your own life, you might consider doing so for that of a... friend."

  "The answer's still no."

  He smiled thinly. "I'd a notion that'd be your initial position, which is why I was generous enough to arrange this conversation early. In a while, the pressure of time will provoke less pleasant strategies, but you've brief window in which to reconsider."

  "No," I repeated.

  The mists rose around me, swallowing the roadway, the buildings and the shuffling ghosts.

  "Don't be so hasty," Malgyne chided. "As it happens, I have better things to do than wrestle with your intransigence..."

  "Yes, I'd noticed that. You seem to have a strawjack problem."

  "Pffft." He waved a dismissive hand. "A temporary inconvenience, one that scarcely requires my attention. As I was saying, I'm going to leave you to consider the full extent of your situation. Of course, you could go looking for the lady yourself, but there's a problem. You see those rising mists? That's your mind trying to make sense of Otherworld, now that your lovely anchor's been spirited away. In a little while, I'd imagine everything will be a swirling, greenish nothing. It's driven others mad. I suspect you'll probably endure it, as you've proven annoyingly tenacious during our brief association. But I wouldn't rate your chances of finding her without my help."

  I glowered at him. I was, in fact, desperately scared, but I didn't dare give Malgyne what he wanted. I'd no faith he'd keep his bargain, and for all I knew Arianwyn was already dead. I'd find another way. I'd have to.

  "No?" he queried. "Very well. I'll see you presently. Don't wander off."

  He vanished, and with him went the last of my touchstones in this strange reality. All was swallowed in mist. I was utterly alone.

  I could see neither my feet, nor whatever it was they rested on. Indeed, I could barely see my own hand when I waved it in front of my face. I dared not take a step without seeing where I was walking, but without taking a step I'd never get anywhere. Was this then to be my fate: paralysis or madness?

  My pulse quickened. My breathing shallowed. I told myself Otherworld was merely an alien land whose ways I was not yet familiar with. It followed rules – they just weren't the rules I was used to. But there was a vast difference between learning the customs and politics of another land, and learning to survive unaided in a place at odds with natural law.

  That stark realisation nearly plunged me into despair. Arianwyn could count on no one else for rescue, but how could I help her if I were lost in this benighted realm? Hard on the heels of that thought came the awareness that were I to go mad, or simply perish, Malgyne would have little difficulty in reclaiming the fragment from my person. Set against these considerations I found I could rouse little sorrow at my own fate, as it counted for little.

  With an effort, I hauled myself out of my misery. Arianwyn had told me plenty about Otherworld, how she entered and left, and how she navigated. I could put that knowledge to use.

  'It's more a focus of will,' she'd said of opening a portal to the mortal realm. Unfortunately, that was a fairly broad concept, and I had no idea of its practical application. Besides, if I managed to escape to the living realm, I'd be doing so without Arianwyn, and without any prospect of being able to return for her.

  Putting that to one side, I tried to remember what she'd said about finding a path through Otherworld. Something about knowing where you wanted to go? No, that wasn't it. She'd said you needed to know what you wanted, not where you wanted. That was more promising. At that precise moment in time, what I wanted more than anything in the world – and for a variety of reasons – was to find Arianwyn.

  Closing my eyes, I tried to picture her face. I found that I couldn't. I could mentally 'see' all the elements: the curled chestnut hair, blue eyes and so on, but every time I tried to put them together it didn't quite look right. It was ridiculous, I'd spent much of the last few days with her, yet I couldn't properly recall her face.

  Abandoning any attempt at picturing what Arianwyn looked like, I instead recalled the time we'd spent together. I sifted through each memory in as much detail as I could, recalling her quiet determination and the earnestness of her convictions; the calm dignity of her bearing and the kindnesses that softened her hauteur. Instead of rebuilding Arianwyn's appearance in my mind, I recreated her personality, at least so far as I knew it.

  I felt a slight breeze. I opened my eyes to see that the mists had receded. It wasn't much – they were still far thicker than when I'd arrived – but now I made out the shapes of buildings in the middle-distance, and ghostly figures moving around me. They weren't the Tressian buildings I was used to, but the more nuanced structures of my homeland.

  The vista was blurry and unfocused, but no crisply painted canvas ever gave me as much pleasure. Only then did I recall something else Arianwyn had told me of walking the Otherworld's paths. '…it's more a matter of learning to be guided by your heart's desire than any conventional cartography' The phrase now took on fresh significance in my mind.

  I recounted my memories of Arianwyn as I walked, always heading to where Otherworld seemed most solid. I skirted the edge of battles between strawjacks and revenants, their bodies as pale and indistinct as everything else, but managed to do so without drawing their attention. Time and again, my concentration slipped, plunging my surroundings into a murky and formless mass. Each time, I restored them to solidity by focusing my thoughts.

  I don't know how long I walked, as I had no attention to spare for something as trivial as the passage of time. It was exhausting, not in body, but in mind. I daresay I looked no more aware than the ghosts whose paths I followed. Even allowing for her experience in these matters, I couldn't believe how easy Arianwyn made it look. Each time Otherworld slipped away from me, it took increasing effort to bring it back. Finally, I could manage no more. Reluctantly, I let go of my memories and let Otherworld fade.

  Except it didn't.

  I sank to my haunches, expecting the buildings and ghosts to dissipate, but they stubbornly refused to do so. Had I gotten so good at this that I no longer needed to concentrate? I looked up at the buildings towering over me. So involved had I been in my travels, that I hadn't noticed there was no longer any Hadari architecture to be seen – it was all Tressian.

  I would have cheered, had I not been worried of alerting others to my presence. Why were the buildings Tressian or even here at all? It could only be because I was so close to Arianwyn that her perceptions were once more shaping what I saw. Now all I had to do was find her.

  I ran to the end of the street. A great square unfolded before me, the bloated form of the Shaddra overseeing all like a malevolent queen. But it wasn't the Shaddra who caught my attention first. At the back of the square, nestled in the centre of the dolmens I'd seen before, stood an enormous archway. Or rather what I assumed to be an archway, for it wasn't yet complete.

  The archway was truly huge, not so large as the Shaddra, but it dwarfed the ghosts flowing about its base. No, not flowing about its base, flowing into its base. Whenever a ghost touched one of the arch's pillars, the two merged, leaving nothing of ghost behind.

  I swept my eyes over the square, an odd feeling in the pit of my stomach. Ghosts flooded into the square from all six streets, but none left. I didn't know what it all meant, but I was certain that it didn't bode well. My eye was drawn to a knot of revenants who were standing at the base of one of the arch's pillars. It was odd. They looked to be guarding something, but I couldn't see what. Then I shifted my gaze upward and I saw Arianwyn, perched atop one of the dolmens, and very much aliv
e.

  My heart leapt and then sank again. There were at least two score revenants between me and her, and I didn't doubt that there'd be more nearby. There was nothing encouraging about those odds.

  "Edric? I thought you'd escaped."

  Alfric – or more precisely Alfric's ghost – stood at my side, his hood back and his face empty of expression.

  "I did. I had to come back."

  He frowned. "You should leave. Something's going to happen."

  That got my attention. "What? What's going to happen?"

  "I don't know. It's more like a feeling. It's hard to describe."

  I pointed at the archway. "Do you know what that is?"

  "No. But I can feel it calling to me. You need to go."

  "I can't. Not without her."

  Alfric followed my gaze. "Is that the woman who brought you here?"

  "Yes."

  "You'll have to leave her. You'll never get past the revenants."

  "I could if I had help."

  He smiled sadly. "Me, you mean? Do I look like I could help? Besides, I'm supposed to be working against you, not with you."

  I froze. "What?"

  "A proposition was made. Apparently you're carrying a chunk of rock. I'm promised resurrection and all the earthly power and wealth I could ever want in exchange." Alfric laughed. "Don't worry, I know a fool's bargain when I hear one; I offered enough of them when I was alive. Besides, I'm not sure the world would tolerate my excesses for a second time. Better to fade."

  My thoughts again touched on what my brother might have been had life been but a little different. "Ashana bless you, Alfric."

  "I missed that."

  I'd spoken too low for him to hear. "It doesn't matter. But thank you, all the same."

  "I'm sorry I can't be more help."

  "You've done enough. You've given me an idea."

  Despite its importance, I'd forgotten all about the chunk of portalstone in my pocket. More significantly, I'd forgotten how important it was to so many people. I still didn't know why it mattered so, but at that moment I didn't need to.

  "Do you know if there are any strawjacks nearby?"

  "Yes, there's a group of them tearing revenants apart over there." He pointed to one of the square's exits. "Can't you hear?"

  I cocked my head to one side, but heard nothing. Clearly Alfric was more attuned to Otherworld than I was, but then, he was supposed to be here. I set off at a run.

  By the time I reached the group of strawjacks, they'd won their battle and were crackling cheerfully to themselves as they uprooted a raven-headed statue. I halted a dozen paces away and dug in my pocket for the portalstone fragment.

  "What are you doing?" Alfric watched with interest. Perhaps a little too much interest – his eyes never left the rock in my hand.

  "Something unwise. You may want to stand back."

  "I think I'll stay."

  "Fair enough," I said, oddly pleased. I raised my voice and called out to the strawjacks. "Jack? Jack? Can you hear me?"

  As one, the three strawjacks turned to look at me with their baleful green eyes. After a moment's pause, the central creature's eyes dimmed and Jack grew forth from its upturned palm.

  {{Why do you intrude? Have you not interfered enough?}}

  "I honestly can't answer that question," I said. "Every time I think I know what's going on, everything changes."

  {{Such is the fate of meat. What do you want?}}

  Bracing myself, I held up the portalstone fragment.

  {{You brought that here?}} Jack buzzed angrily. {{You fool. You've as good as put it into his hands.}}

  "That's not my concern. My concern – and by extension, your concern – is that Malgyne is holding my friend. He'll only release her if I give him this."

  {{You can't. You'll ruin everything.}}

  "I don't want to. But nor can I leave my friend in his clutches. It seems I don't have a choice. Unless..." I took a deep breath. This was it. "...unless you help me get her back."

  {{Do you think I'm a fool? You have no intention of giving me that fragment.}}

  "I never implied I would," I said bluntly. "But if you help me, I won't give it to Malgyne either. You don't get to win, but nor does he. That's worth a little help, surely?" I let a little derision seep into my voice. "Or do you want to stay here, smashing statues?"

  The strawjacks crackled angrily to themselves.

  {{Why shouldn't my servants just take it from you?}}

  It was a good question, but I had an answer ready.

  "Because I'm fairly certain I can outrun them. Perhaps not indefinitely, but certainly long enough for Malgyne to notice that I'm here." Jack didn't need to know that the God of the Dead was either unwilling or unable to act directly against me. "In fact, the longer we talk, the more likely that is to happen anyway."

  {{Your bargain is... acceptable,}} Jack said, his voice dripping with reluctance. {{What do you want of me?}}

  I relaxed very, very slightly. "Revenants are holding my friend captive near some kind of arch. I need you to clear a path."

  {{Very well. It shall be done. But you and I are not finished.}}

  "I never thought we would be," I said. "However, to make sure we can all trust each other, your strawjacks are going to lead the way. I'll follow at a distance so you don't get tempted to do something I won't like."

  Jack crackled and inclined his head in acknowledgement, before sinking back into the strawjack's hand.

  Alfric regarded me with a mixture of horror and awe. "Did you just blackmail one of the great powers?"

  I didn't reply. I was too busy watching the strawjacks file past me towards the square. I needn't have worried – they kept a suitably unthreatening distance at all times. Perhaps Jack could be trusted, after all. What a pleasant change of pace.

  "Edric...?"

  "Sorry. My mind was elsewhere." I returned the rock to my pocket. "But yes, I think that's exactly what I did."

  "What is going on?"

  "I've don't know," I said. That was true, as far as it went, but I was starting to have some unpleasant theories. "For now, I'm just trying to get Arianwyn back. The rest I'll worry about later, if I can." The strawjacks vanished into the square. "I have to go."

  "Then go. I'll be watching with interest."

  By the time I reached the square, it was in uproar. Jack had indeed kept his word and on a scale that I could never have anticipated. Dozens of strawjacks rampaged through the ghostly crowds, tearing revenants apart with ruthless abandon.

  If I'd any longer had doubts about how badly Jack wanted the fragment kept from Malgyne, they were quickly extinguished by that sight. More revenants were flooding into the square as I watched, but there still weren't enough to contain the strawjacks' fury. Unfortunately, several of Arianwyn's guards were still in position around the dolmen. There'd be plenty of work for me, after all.

  Drawing my sword, I ran towards the henge. I thought I'd picked a route that would carry me clear of the fighting, but was disabused of that notion when a revenant burst out of a swirl of ghosts. It hissed into ash as my blade swept through it, but two more came up behind. They perished much as the first, but another four were close on their heels.

  With a lurching, creaking sound, a particularly twisted strawjack entered the battle. Two revenants, their attention fixed entirely on me, were torn to inky shreds before they had a chance to react. A third perished on my sword and the last was trampled under the strawjack's thorned feet.

  I expected the strawjack to go charging off again, but it just stood there, eyes blazing.

  "What?"

  {{Follow,}} it creaked in a voice like splitting timber, and lumbered towards the henge.

  I gaped dumbly at it for a moment. The strawjack – who, in a moment of irreverence, I decided to name 'Gnarl' – turned back to look at me.

  {{Follow.}} This time is spoke with a hint of impatience. At last I recovered enough of my wits to do as instructed.

  We reach
ed the base of Arianwyn's dolmen within moments. I skidded to a halt a little way short, but Gnarl kept going, ploughing into the revenants who stood guard.

  "Edric?" Arianwyn peered over the edge, her voice laden with disbelief. I couldn't rightly blame her. "Was that a strawjack?"

  "It's complicated. Can you get us out of here?"

  "I think so. But I don't know where the portal will bring us out."

  "I don't care. Right now, anywhere that's not here is a definite improvement."

  "I agree... Edric?"

  "Yes?"

  "I can't get down."

  And nor could she. The rock on which Arianwyn sat formed an arch across two enormous columns, and thus left her suspended at least twenty feet above the ground.

  Fortunately, Gnarl was paying attention and, better still, had a solution. Pausing only to stomp the last of Arianwyn's guards into smoke, it reached up and lashed tendrils about the dolmen. I doubted that the strawjack could pull itself up to the Arianwyn's level, but then I saw it didn't need to. The tendrils tightened around the rock, and Gnarl hoisted itself his enough to wind the fingers of its other hand tightly around Arianwyn's waist.

  "Don't worry!" I shouted. "We have an understanding."

  Gnarl lowered Arianwyn to the ground and released her.

  "What have you been doing?" she asked.

  "Can I tell you later?"

  She nodded and began preparations to open a portal.

  I turned to Gnarl, not sure whether I should even address it. I decided it would do no harm. "Thank you."

  The strawjack's eyes blazed. {{Remember this,}} it creaked, then turned and launched itself back into the battle.

  "How long?" I asked Arianwyn.

  "About half as long as it will take if you keep distracting me."

  Taking the hint, I turned away.

  The battle was dying down. The strawjacks had made a terrible mess, but were falling back. The square was a ruin of broken stonework and scattered ghosts. Here and there, I saw a strawjack's split and scattered remains. It was impossible to know how many revenants had been destroyed, given their tendency to burst into ash or vapour when slain, but I could see only a handful remaining: not a bad result at all, to my way of thinking.