Shadow of the Raven (The Reckoning Book 1)

by Ward, Matthew

  "Don't take this the wrong way," I said, "but you don't look like you'll last five minutes, let alone a trip to the cathedral."

  {{You speak the truth. This strawjack is spent. A few minutes more, and its last life-force will ebb away.}}

  "Then what use are you to us?" asked Arianwyn harshly.

  {{That is not my decision to make.}}

  "What do you mean?"

  {{Strawjacks are vessels that convey my will, but humans can also serve that function. Specifically, one of you can serve that function, if you so choose.}}

  The thought of it made my skin crawl. Arianwyn took an involuntary step backward. Jamar frowned – which for him counted as a massive outpouring of emotion – and Zorya, of course, gave no reaction. Constans looked thoughtful. I shot him a querulous look, but couldn't catch his eye.

  "Why can't we wait until you can get another strawjack here or, better still, until you can come in person?" Arianwyn demanded.

  {{I cannot leave Fellhallow. I can act only through others.}}

  "Excellent," I said sarcastically. "What of the other option?"

  {{We can wait, but time is not our ally. The magics the Raven has used to build his bridge will soon allow him to remove the portalstone from the site of ingress. Once that happens, he can hide it anywhere he wishes. It is doubtful we will ever find it. If we are to act, it must be soon.}}

  "Very convenient. What if I don't believe you?"

  Jack gazed balefully at me, but said nothing.

  "I don't think we have any choice but to believe him," said Arianwyn reluctantly. "We've a lot to lose by delay, and I'm not sure what he has to gain by deception."

  "Except for a new puppet, of course," I said scathingly.

  {{It will not be as you describe. I will not interfere with my host, merely offer guidance until the time comes to act.}}

  I wasn't happy with that, not remotely. Yet this seemed to be the only hope we had of undoing Malgyne's work. Perhaps the risk – if indeed there was any – was worthwhile.

  {{My word, once given, is inviolate.}}

  There were legends concerning the Lord of Fellhallow being unable to break an honest bargain. I cast my mind back to my most recent trip to Otherworld. It was true Jack could have overpowered me and taken the portalstone, but he'd chosen not to do so – or had been unable to do so. Given how things had progressed, I rather wished he'd made an exception.

  [[I am willing to bear this burden,]] intoned Zorya.

  {{Impossible,}} Jack hissed. {{This creature has the stink of the Radiant about it.}}

  "This is no time to be choosy," I chastened.

  {{It is not a matter of choice.}}

  "I'll do it." The softly spoken words had come from Constans. As everyone turned to look at him, he spoke again, this time with an almost-convincing level of confidence. "I'll do it." He shrugged. "I'm the obvious choice, and I'm expendable."

  Jamar scowled. Arianwyn looked away. Neither said anything.

  "I don't believe anyone considers you expendable," I said.

  "Then you're all fools," Constans said cheerfully, then held up a hand and started counting off his reasons. "I'm far older than any of you; I've done some truly reprehensible things; and I'm the only person in this room who's no longer contributing anything that any fool with a sword couldn't. In fact, thanks to my recent return to the ranks of mortality, I'm not even terribly good at that. I'm slower, far slower than I was before. It's going to get me killed sooner or later anyway, so why not go in style?"

  "But..."

  Constans forged on through Arianwyn's interruption. "You're also forgetting that Jerack's only a temporary tenant, and a quiet one at that. This is only dangerous if he breaks his word, and one does not remain a great power by making foolish choices."

  These last words had a subtle layer of menace to them and I realised that Constans wasn't just the right candidate – he was the only candidate. The willpower that had kept him true to his chosen responsibilities would serve him well if Jack reneged. I didn't have half his focus or probably even half of that. Arianwyn would have been our next best choice but, leaving aside how appalling I found the thought of Jack taking root in her head, she was also our next best chance of victory if Jack failed. We couldn't risk losing both at once. Jamar's willpower was probably comparable to Constans', but I doubted he'd know how to resist a great power, whereas Constans must have learned a few tricks to have thrown off Droshna's influence all those centuries ago. It had to be Constans.

  "Thank you, Constans," I said. I tried not to think on his earlier denials concerning 'grand and fatal gestures'.

  {{It is settled then?}} hissed Jack.

  "It's a long way from settled," Arianwyn said coldly. She looked from Constans, to Jack, to me and back to Constans. "Or have any of you forgotten that we can't so much as get to the cathedral without an army? And our only hope for an army just turned us down."

  Zorya raised her head as if to speak, but lowered it again without a word.

  Arianwyn pressed on. "Quintus' forces are dead or fleeing, Jerack has no strawjacks close enough. There's no point risking Constans unless we can make the whole plan work." Arianwyn spoke effusively, a woman convinced as to the rightness of her cause. And she was right, at least as far as she knew.

  Constans started speaking, trying to reason with her. I wasn't listening; nor, so far as I could tell, was Arianwyn. Jack stared at Arianwyn, clearly trying to decide whether a further word from him would advance or harry the cause. Jamar gazed at me, his brow set and his expression expectant. I knew what he wanted. Gods, but I knew what he wanted. I'd resisted him at the bridge, but now? What was the point? We didn't have any other choice.

  "I know where there's an army." I spoke quietly, even hesitantly, yet the room went instantly still.

  Constans was the first to speak. "I'm sorry Edric, but could you repeat that? It sounded like you said..."

  "I know where there's an army," I repeated, louder this time. A long kept secret was almost out in the light, and the sense of that burden finally being lifted gave me fresh confidence. "It's encamped not far from here and it's been expecting trouble out of Tressia these last six months, though not in this form."

  The penny finally dropped. "You're talking about the Hadari army?" Arianwyn asked. "The Hadari army? Why would they help us, or even listen to us?"

  "I rather think Edric is suggesting that they'd be listening to him," said Constans drily.

  "But you were cast out, exiled for..." Arianwyn's voice tailed off, though whether it was because she'd worked it out or because she was trying to avoid mentioning Alfric, I wasn't sure.

  "He wasn't exiled," rumbled Jamar. "He left willingly and, I might say, over the protests of the Golden Court."

  Arianwyn looked closely at me. "Is this true?"

  "It's true," I said.

  "But you told me you'd been banished." Her tone was puzzled, more than hurt – a fact for which I was thankful.

  Jamar gazed solemnly at me. "He had been, after a fashion, but it was at his own hand and no one else's. It's not my place to speak on these things, of course," he continued, signposting his intention to do just that, "but I've always assumed you were punishing himself as no one else had the authority to do it. An honourable course – foolish, certainly – but honourable nonetheless. It's why we came here, Romark, Haril and I. We hoped to keep you alive long enough for good sense to return. It's also why I've never taken offence when you've been less than polite. I've never believed it was me that you were angry with."

  I shook my head at how badly I'd misjudged Jamar. "You might be right."

  Arianwyn regarded me with exasperation, then spun away. "Fine. So there's an army. Are you sure they'll follow you?"

  "Not in the least. But there's a chance, especially if my uncle is still with them. He'll hear me out."

  Arianwyn still didn't look impressed.

  "Look, I know this isn't ideal," I said. "Believe me, it's the very last thing that I wan
ted, but we're running out of options and we're running out of time."

  {{I must have a new host,}} Jack said urgently. {{I cannot hold this form together much longer.}}

  Constans dropped down from his perch. "Very well, what do you need me to do?"

  "Constans..." Arianwyn moved to bar his path.

  "We've been over this. There's no other choice."

  Arianwyn gritted her teeth and stood aside.

  Constans looked at Jack. "Well?"

  Jack didn't answer, but extended an arm that instantly split apart into a writhing mass of tendrils.

  "Ah..." Constans said. "This is going to hurt, isn't it?"

  {{Yes.}}

  "I rather thought it might," Constans sighed, then screamed as the tendrils lanced into his chest.

  For a moment, he stood motionless, impaled upon Jack's tendrils, his lifeblood dripping to the floor. Then the glow faded from Jack's eyes, and the empty shell toppled forward, disintegrating into woody fragments.

  Constans collapsed. Zorya caught his falling body.

  "Constans? Constans?" Arianwyn called his name a half-dozen times more, her voice increasingly insistent and worried. Fortunately, the wounds appeared to be closing of their own volition – presumably through some trick of Jack's.

  Finally, Constans' eyes flickered open. Blood oozed from the wounds in his chest. His eyes held a faraway look that I couldn't imagine boded well. "There's no need to shout, Ari. I already have something of a headache."

  "I know this is a foolish question, but are you alright?" I asked.

  "I'm fine, at least I think so." He tapped the side of his head. "I can feel Jack buzzing around; he's not giving me any trouble – well, not yet, anyway." He cocked his head. "He's insistent that we shouldn't be hanging around wasting time when there's so little of it left. I rather think I agree with him."

  It seemed we had a new ally – a voice in the back of Constans' head. I hoped we wouldn't come to regret it.

  Seven

  I'd be lying if I'd said I was happy with Jack taking root in Constans' body – there were just too many unknowns. I had no doubt Jack's goals were synchronous enough with ours that he'd cause no trouble in the short term, but in the long run? Certainly the Lord of Fellhallow was keeping something from us – such was his nature. But what that was, and how we'd counter it, were problems for another time.

  No sooner had Constans picked himself up off the floor than the light in the room changed, and mist curled through the broken wall. Otherworld was overtaking the Tower of Stars.

  "It appears that we'd be best served by moving on," said Jamar politely. "If there's anything more we need from the tower, we should gather it quickly."

  It seemed that no one did, or at least no one raised any objection, so Jamar and I hustled everyone outside. With the mists rising, the fallen were sure to arrive soon, and I had no desire to be trapped in a ruined fortress.

  Jamar was the last to leave, having stopped off in the tower's armouries. In addition to his sword, he bore a brace of daggers buckled at his waist, a battleaxe strapped across his back, a large round shield slung upon his left forearm and another sword – this one of Tressian make – in his right hand. The burden must have been enormous, yet he wasn't at all slowed by it. I don't think he even noticed.

  Jaspyr and Fredrik padded back to Arianwyn's side without so much as a word of command. Something puzzled me about their behaviour, though I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Maybe I just couldn't reconcile how protective they were of Arianwyn with how remorselessly their fellows had pursued us in the vault.

  I led my mismatched companions through the mist-wreathed streets. I wanted to find Quintus before we went in search of my people – he at least needed to know our plan if my people were not to be mistaken for an army of invasion. Of course, that all depended on whether or not I could get my people to intercede; an outcome of which I was still far from certain. It would have been better to find Karov, as his authority would provide a better guarantee, but I had no idea where the councilman would have scurried off to. On the other hand, there was only one place that Quintus would have fallen back to, if he hadn't already fled the city: the guard house.

  In that horrible light, every shape and shadow took on the aspect of a lurking fallen, and my nerves were well-worn before we'd covered more than a quarter of the distance. The buildings, once tall and noble structures, were now made over as temples to a sinister god. Statues leered from porticos, their blank eyes alive with black fire. Death masks peered from gable walls and stared blankly down at the streets. Iron railings were now barbed and twisted, as if subjected to impossible heat. And everywhere – perched on top of statues, at wing in the air or grubbing around in gutters for morsels of food – were ghostly ravens. Some were solid but translucent counterparts to their mortal shadows. Others were little more than wisps of smoke affecting the form of feather and bone.

  There were bodies everywhere. They lay singly or in small groups, Tressians of all walks of life overtaken by Droshna's host. Many had been partially devoured, proof that the ranks of the fallen still contained plenty of the wretched creatures we'd slain by the score on the Estrina's banks.

  Fires burned at many intersections, great bonfires of dead flesh standing taller than I. They billowed green through the mist and sent foul smoke spiralling through the streets. The sight was horrific enough, but the smell was stomach-wrenching. Constans, informed by Jack's silent voice, told us they were part of Malgyne's ritual to solidify his grasp on the world. I wondered if we should delay Malgyne's progress by dousing the flames, but decided against it. There would be no surer way of revealing our presence, and I expected the fires would be lit again soon enough.

  Of living souls, we saw no sign. I recalled those citizens we'd encountered on the way to the tower, men and women who'd refused to give up their homes despite the horror overtaking the city. I'd no doubt that most, if not all, were now dead. I forced down the guilt I felt at having left them to their fate. I couldn't save everyone. In fact, it looked more and more like I'd be lucky to save anyone.

  Three streets over from the Tower of Stars, we found a small knot of praetorian corpses clustered around the junction of two alleyways. Judging from the debris, they'd barricaded themselves in as best they could. It hadn't been enough. More people I hadn't been able to save.

  Something burst from under jumble of shattered crates. It was a wretch, its face slick with blood, and a gobbet of sinew dangling from its broken teeth. It took one look at us, and bolted for the open street.

  I sprang after the fugitive. Jamar was faster. Catching the fallen in three mighty strides, he bashed it to the ground with a swipe of his shield, then severed its head with one blow.

  A maddened shriek split the air. A second wretch stood a few paces distant from Jamar, his dark eyes fixed upon us. The shriek gurgled and died as one of Constans' daggers caught the creature in the throat. It slumped to the ground, but the damage was done. All around us, the air filled with harsh cries. Ghostly ravens, stirred from their roosts, wheeled and circled above us.

  Cursing foully under my breath, I urged my companions onward. We crossed the next two streets without incident, though at the latter only so because Constans bade us wait while a large patrol of fallen tramped over the cobbles. These were not more of the feral creatures we'd already encountered, but cold-eyed legionaries marching in near-perfect formation.

  We waited until the sound of marching feet vanished, then we ghosted across the street into the welcoming shelter of the alleyway beyond. Grateful that the patrol hadn't spotted us, we hurried through the alley's confines.

  We'd gone maybe three dozen paces when it happened. A wretch dropped from the eaves above us with a piercing shriek. It landed square on Arianwyn's back, bearing her to the ground. A dagger glinted in a wicked arc, then spun off into the darkness, as Zorya grabbed the fallen by its neck and slammed it into a wall. Deep-throated bellows sounded from the streets behind us. Arianwyn scr
ambled to her feet and we redoubled our pace.

  Another wretch appeared out of the mists. Jamar hacked him down without even slowing. Others dropped from above. Zorya snatched two from the air before they even landed, throwing them back for Jaspyr and Fredrik to maul. A third mad-eyed fallen evaded her grasp and lunged at Constans, only to shiver to a halt as Arianwyn's dagger sliced into his spine.

  "I have them!" The angry bellow echoed down the alleyway.

  Legionaries burst from the mists behind us. With little else in the way of options, we fled. More legionaries waited at the alley's far end, formed and ready.

  "We've been herded," muttered Constans. There was a slight green glow behind his eyes. A side effect of his bargain with Jack? It might have just been a trick of the Otherworld light.

  Jamar pointed calmly to a side passage. "This way. We'll make our stand there."

  He'd chosen well. The alleyway was so narrow that only two attackers could approach at once. Jamar planted himself firmly in the centre. Constans and I stood a little behind him – far enough away to give him room to work, but close enough that he wouldn't be fighting alone.

  Jamar jerked his head further down the alley. "There's a sewer grate back there. See if you can get it loose,"

  The first of the legionaries had reached the junction. They cautiously made their way down the alley, wary that our sudden halt signified some trick or trap.

  The sewer grate was almost as wide as the alley, and badly rusted. Zorya ripped it cleanly from the cobbles.

  "Is it big enough?" Jamar asked, his eyes on the advancing fallen.

  Arianwyn nodded. "Plenty. But we'll have to be quick."

  "You first, savim," said Jamar.

  Arianwyn hesitated for a moment, then obeyed. She waited just long enough for Jaspyr and Fredrik to drop down into the darkness below – a sensible precaution, given that none of us knew what might be lurking down there.

  I tapped the sentinel on the shoulder. "Zorya?"

  [[No.]] The blue spiderwork of her wounds glowed weirdly in the Otherworld light as she took up the axe slung across Jamar's back. [[You and Master Constans will go next.]]