Songreaver

by Andrew Hunter

  "Diggs!" Garrett cried out, running to their side.

  Diggs looked up at Garrett. The ghoul's eyes showed no sign of recognition for a moment. Then he blinked and whispered hoarsely, "Garrett?"

  "Where are the others?" Garrett asked, his heart pounding with fear.

  Diggs raised a long, shaggy arm and pointed back toward the mouth of the largest tunnel leading into the darkness.

  Garrett looked to see shapes moving against the shadows. A moment later, he gasped in relief as Warren and Scupp stumbled into the dim light, their fur plastered with dry mud. Supported between them, wearing a stained and tattered dress, Lady Ymowyn, the fox-woman swooned, barely conscious.

  Garrett raced toward them, calling out to his friends. The look of utter despair on Warren's face staggered him in his tracks, and the sight of what followed them out of the darkness took his breath away.

  The largest ghoul Garrett had ever seen stepped from the shadows. Massively muscled and nearly eight feet tall at the shoulders, the ghoul had dead white fur and the facial features of an enormous wolf. His yellow fangs curved down from a snout longer than most ghouls, and a black mark in the shape of a crescent moon framed one of his icy blue eyes.

  He carried the body of Warren's father draped over one shoulder.

  The great wolf-ghoul froze, baring his fangs at the sight of the humans, letting out a snarl that chilled Garrett's blood. Then, a smaller white ghoul loped forward from the shadows and whispered something in the large wolf's ear.

  Garrett recognized Warren's cousin Norris at once.

  The mighty wolf-ghoul narrowed its eyes and relaxed its guard, shouldering into its burden once again and moving toward the center of town. Other ghouls ran out to meet them, taking Lady Ymowyn from Warren's arms and bearing her away to where Chunnley was hastily setting up an aide station.

  Garrett offered his shoulder to Warren, but his friend only waved him off, gasping for breath.

  "Were you pursued?" Uncle Tinjin asked.

  "As far as the city," Scupp panted, her hands on her knees.

  "Chadiri?" Uncle Tinjin said.

  Warren shook his head. "I don't know what they were."

  "They were devils," the huge white ghoul growled, his voice like rocks grinding together in the depths of the earth, "Call them what they are, and stop wasting time! I need a place to tend my brother... now!"

  Garrett looked at Warren.

  Warren nodded. "My Uncle Raikjaa," he said.

  ****

  Bargas muttered and howled, slipping in and out of consciousness as Warren knelt, watching him from a few feet away. Raikjaa, the massive white ghoul kneeled beside Bargas's body inside a large arcane circle that he had drawn on the ground with a chunk of broken masonry. Raikjaa tended Bargas's wounds and chanted over him in a strange tongue while Norris ran back and forth, fetching whatever herbs and dressings his father called for. Garrett and his uncle sat beside Warren. The rest of the ghouls had retreated to watch from the other side of the low wall surrounding the town square.

  "Berda!" Bargas cried out, and he fell to weeping for a moment before slipping into unconsciousness once more.

  "My mother's name," Warren whispered, a look of anguish on his face.

  Garrett felt sick to see the countless scorch marks that laced across Bargas's gray fur. He remembered the woman in the forest and the things with white faces that caused such wounds.

  "Did these things have long arms that burned where they touched you?" Garrett whispered.

  Warren looked down at a place on his arm where the fur had been singed away in a long strip. "Did they attack you too?" he asked.

  "Yeah," Garrett said, "but I don't think they were really after us... they killed some lady that we tried to rescue on our way back to Wythr. At least we saved her brother."

  "What are they?" Warren asked, his voice trembling.

  "The ones we met were called Volgrem," Garrett said.

  "Volgrem?" Uncle said, "Garrett, what are you talking about? Volgrem are spirit beasts, they can't physically harm anyone."

  Garrett shrugged and lifted his hands toward Bargas's twitching form as evidence for his claim.

  "These things seemed pretty solid to me, Mister Tinjin," Warren said, rubbing at another burned stripe along his jaw.

  Uncle gave Garrett a hard look, as though all this madness were somehow his fault.

  "Bra'thu e'ghourena!" Raikjaa shouted. He repeated it again and again, pressing his white claw against the center of Bargas's chest.

  Bargas screamed, his eyes fluttering open for a moment, and his body pushed against his brother's restraining hand. At last, he whimpered and stopped moving, his breath escaping as a long, rattling hiss.

  "Dad!" Warren sobbed, lunging forward.

  Norris intercepted him, holding him back.

  "Stay back, boy!" Raikjaa shouted, "Your father lives!"

  Warren burst into tears as his cousin pushed him away from the edge of the arcane circle. Uncle Tinjin reached out to pull Warren back, and Warren fell to his knees again, weeping softly as they watched the faint rising and falling of Bargas's hairy chest.

  "The egg," Raikjaa called to his son, and Norris hurried to bring his father a basket of brown hens eggs that Chunnley had fetched for them earlier.

  Raikjaa selected a large one and cracked it over Bargas's open jaws. Bargas choked as the yellow yolk slid down into his throat, and he began to cough.

  "Is'dedraa Bhaagalesh!" Raikjaa howled, his long talons clutched to either side of his brother's head.

  Bargas groaned, a wet, regurgitating sound, and suddenly black froth spewed from between his teeth. The viscous black liquid sizzled and steamed, burning away in a matter of moments and leaving no trace on Bargas's fur.

  Bargas drew in a long, shuddering breath and let it out again. His eyes opened and focused on the great white wolf towering over him. "Raik?" he whispered.

  Raikjaa bared his fangs in a grin. "Welcome back, little brother," he growled.

  "Warren?" Bargas rasped.

  "I'm here, dad!" Warren said, laughing with relief.

  "The others?" Bargas said, trying to sit up.

  Raikjaa held him down with one massive paw. "All well, brother," he said.

  "But, how?" Bargas said, "How did you find us?"

  Raikjaa looked at Norris and made a grumbling noise. "Rest now, brother," he said, "We will talk later."

  Bargas fell into a deep slumber almost at once, and Norris stepped forward to lay a blanket over him.

  Raikjaa got to his feet, lashing his great bushy tail behind him as he raised a warning paw to Warren who was stepping toward his father. Raikjaa shook his head and said, "Let him rest inside the circle. No lingering evil will survive the night. Take me to Ymowyn, I would tend to her next."

  Garrett and his uncle followed the ghouls to where Lady Ymowyn lay, sleeping on a rough cot in the shelter of an old, roofless house. A short distance away, Diggs and Scupp sat on their haunches, gnawing at fresh joints of meat that Chunnley had piled up for them in the corner. Both of them cringed slightly at the sight of the monstrous Raikjaa as he stepped through the door, and they took the first opportunity to slink out through a broken window with their dinners clamped tightly in their jaws.

  Raikjaa stooped low, sniffing at Ymowyn's throat. He looked suddenly alarmed and turned to look at Uncle Tinjin where he stood, watching from the doorway. He regarded Tinjin cautiously for a long moment and then turned his attention back to the unconscious Ymowyn.

  "Is she all right?" Warren asked.

  Garrett saw that his friend's paws were trembling at his sides.

  Raikjaa reached down and tilted Ymowyn's chin to study her face. Her thin lips parted slightly beneath her fox-like muzzle, and she whispered something in her sleep.

  Raikjaa grunted and stood up again. He looked at Norris and grinned. "She's starved herself half to death," he laughed.

  Norris snickered.

  "No," Warren said, "She ate yesterday.
I made sure of it."

  Raikjaa scoffed. "A little boiled rabbit's not gonna fill up the hollow in her, boy. She hungers."

  "I'll get her something," Warren said, moving toward the pile of meat, "She likes it cooked though. Just give me a minute."

  Raikjaa laughed. "There's not enough meat in the world to sate this hunger, boy," he said, "Stand back and let us give her what she really needs."

  Warren looked confused and desperate. Garrett stepped forward and put his hand on Warren's arm. Warren looked at him, tears brimming in his eyes.

  "You want some o' mine, Da?" Norris whispered.

  Raikjaa shook his head. "No. Won't take more than a wisp to fill her up. She's starved herself so long, any more than that might kill her."

  "What?" Warren cried.

  "Get quiet or get out!" Raikjaa growled.

  Warren clamped his paw over his mouth, on the verge of a breakdown.

  Raikjaa knelt close to Ymowyn and tilted her head back until her mouth fell opened in a gentle gasp. Raikjaa's jaws spread wide, and a low sort of whine escaped from his lips as he exhaled slowly into her open mouth.

  Garrett's fingers dug into Warren's fur when he saw a wispy ribbon of faintly glowing blue light stretch from the white wolf's jaws to Ymowyn's lips.

  The fox woman's eyes blinked open as she cried out in pain.

  Warren lunged forward, but Norris stepped in and flung him against the wall so hard that mortar cracked and powdered against Warren's back.

  Norris leveled a single claw at Garrett's face, warning him not to make a move. Uncle Tinjin said nothing, watching from the doorway with his staff in the crook of his arm.

  Ymowyn sucked in a breath of glowing mist, her eyes gone wide with horror as she lifted herself on the heels of her palms.

  "No!" she gasped, scrambling backwards away from Raikjaa's grinning face.

  "I thought you'd be glad to see me again," Raikjaa said.

  "Oh, no," Ymowyn gasped, wiping her lips with the back of her hand and gagging, "What did you do?"

  "You'll fade away to nothin' if ya don't eat, sister," Raikjaa chuckled, "The Master taught you that much."

  "Nnngh!" Ymowyn groaned, shaking her head from side to side, "I'm not your sister!"

  "You hurt me," Raikjaa sighed, waving his claw, "After all these years, and I don't even get a hug."

  "Ymowyn!" Warren cried, "Are you all right?"

  Ymowyn looked at him and then looked away, ashamed. "I'll be fine, Warren, just... just get out of here."

  "You're acting a fool, Ymowyn," Raikjaa growled, "You called me, after all."

  "My mistake," she said, "I should have chosen the fire."

  Raikjaa turned his back on her. "A waste of good breath," he said. His blue eyes focused on Uncle Tinjin, and he pointed a long claw at the necromancer's chest. "You and me, outside."

  Uncle Tinjin blinked, the muscles of his jaw tensing, but he said nothing. He stepped outside the door, his left hand going to his belt pouch as he did.

  Raikjaa followed him out with Garrett and Norris close behind. Garrett glanced back to see Warren holding Lady Ymowyn to his chest as she softly wept, her hands over her face.

  Uncle Tinjin stood across the ancient street, facing the two white ghouls as Garrett hurried to take his place at Uncle's side.

  "What is this about?" Tinjin asked.

  Raikjaa rose up on his long hind legs, standing nearly ten feet tall. He breathed in the chill air of the underground city and sighed. "You've got something you shouldn't have, bone-digger, and I want to know where you come by it."

  Uncle Tinjin's eyes narrowed. His fingers tightened around the iron shaft of his skull-tipped staff. "You'd better explain yourself, ghoul. I'm in no mood for threats," he said.

  Norris hissed out a laugh and looked at his father.

  Raikjaa settled back into a hunching mass of muscle and fang. "I smell it on you, stronger than blood, so I'll see it too and hear your story. No need for touchin' just yet."

  The ghouls of Marrowvyn began to gather nearby to watch, and Garrett anxiously scanned the crowd for friendly faces. No sign of Diggs or Scupp or Chunnley either.

  Uncle gave Raikjaa a grim smile and reached inside his satchel. "I can only assume that you are referring to this?" he said, pulling the glass jar of lake stone sand out and holding it above his head.

  Ghouls all around cried out in pain, shielding their eyes from the bright light. Norris buried his face in his paws and howled. Even Garrett's eyes were dazzled by the sunlight glow of the sand.

  Raikjaa turned his head to the side, squinting through his moon-marked eye at the glowing jar in Uncle's hand. He let out a ragged laugh and shouted, "Put it away now! I've seen enough."

  Uncle Tinjin took his time returning the jar to his bag. His left hand immediately returned to the small essence flask at his hip, ready to defend himself. "I wasn't aware the White Pack took an interest in mineralogy," Uncle Tinjin said.

  Raikjaa grinned. "That's no dead rock you've got there wizard," he said, "Though I guess you probably knew that already."

  "What do you know of it?" Tinjin asked.

  Raikjaa looked around at the ghouls of Marrowvyn as they rubbed their eyes and muttered curses. "Let's find a quiet spot and speak a while," he said.

  Uncle Tinjin did not move.

  Raikjaa sighed and raised his left paw with the two middle fingers together and the rest splayed apart. "Darkenpact," he said, "No tricks."

  Uncle Tinjin released his grip on the essence flask and raised his left hand in a similar gesture.

  Raikjaa smiled. "This way," he said, then turned and loped away toward a nearby ruined church. Norris followed after him.

  Tinjin sighed and motioned for Garrett to come along.

  "What's darkenpact mean?" Garrett asked.

  "It means that neither of our clans will attempt any harm against the other until the next new moon," Uncle said, "You, of course are a member of my clan, so try not to attack any white ghouls for the next few weeks, if you don't mind."

  Garrett nodded, looking hopefully toward the building where they had left Warren with Lady Ymowyn, but he saw no sign of his friend.

  They found Raikjaa perched on the altar inside the old church, raising his great wolfish head to study the rafters. "You humans build such elaborate dens," he said, "for so little time you have to live in them."

  Norris's hissing laughter echoed from somewhere in the shadows. Very little of the dimly glowing fungi that illuminated most of Marrowvyn grew inside.

  Garrett raised his witchfire torch, and it's verdant flame reflected in Norris's eyes where he crouched in the back of the choir loft. His long teeth glistened in the unnatural light.

  "Where did you get it?" Raikjaa demanded, his pale blue eyes locked on Tinjin.

  "I stole it," Uncle Tinjin answered.

  "Vampires," Raikjaa hissed, "You take a great risk, old man."

  "Fate owes me a few favors," Tinjin said.

  Raikjaa chuckled. "You rob my enemy... but that don't make you my friend," he said, "What do you intend to do with it?"

  "I would know its source," Tinjin said, "What can you tell me of it?"

  Raikjaa lifted a claw and scratched behind his ear. He made a non-committal grunt and shook his head. "The White Pack has looked a long time for the Grave of Light. It lies far to the south and east, and the black bloods guard it well."

  "What is your quarrel with the vampires?" Tinjin asked.

  Raikjaa snarled. "You wouldn't live long enough to hear the end of my list," he said, "so I won’t waste my time startin' it. Suffice to say my kind and their kind don't do a lot of talkin' either."

  "Why do your people seek this stone, if it is so painful to you?" Uncle Tinjin asked.

  Raikjaa laughed. "Painful?" he said, "Yes, it hurts to look on that what was lost. Even food can hurt your belly when you're starvin'. For the black bloods, though, that light is death, and death we mean to deal 'em. There'll come a time when my folk look on
that light again and sing the old songs while we gnaw the bones o' those that tried to snuff it out... those that tried to grind to powder and bury in the earth that what was meant to hang in the sky for all to see."

  Raikjaa looked at Garrett and sneered. "I see you flinch, boy," he hissed, "You got some love in you for the black bloods, I figure."

  "You don't know them," Garrett said.

  "And you think you do?" Raikjaa said.

  "At least I try to understand people before I pass judgment on them," Garrett said, "If you hate people just because they're different, you're as bad as the Chadiri!"

  Raikjaa and Norris filled the old church with echoing laughter. Raikjaa wiped a strand of drool from his jaws with his paw and said, "You've had all the warnin' your gonna get from us. The black bloods'll turn on you the moment you stop bein' useful to 'em. They'll turn on you and watch you die without liftin' a hand to stop it."

  "Well, I suppose we aren't friends after all, then," Uncle Tinjin sighed, "but I warn you that the Keepers of the Dead are not an easy enemy to have."

  "Nor the White Pack, old man," Raikjaa growled, "So let's just pass each other by for now." The great wolf-ghoul dropped down from the altar and shambled sideways into the shadows until only the baleful gleam of his eyes could be seen against the darkness.

  "One last thing," he added, "You've got a traitor in the city. Don't know who, exactly, but the Chadiri mentioned it to me a while back."

  "Mentioned it to you?" Uncle asked.

  The glowing eyes of Raikjaa and his son moved forward from the shadows, crouching low. As they stepped into the light again, Garrett and his uncle both gasped in surprise.

  Two human men in Chadiri uniforms stared back at them with shining eyes and the sharp-toothed grins of ghouls.

  "Helps to know a few tricks," Raikjaa's voice spoke from the Chadiri's lips. Norris's snickering laugh came from the man beside him.

  Chapter Thirteen

  That evening, when Max and Cenick learned that Uncle Tinjin had returned, they cobbled together a rather impressive party in quite a short time. Cenick pressed Mrs. Nash and son into service for the meal, and she managed a plate of sandwiches with a bit of cold chicken and a crock of soft cheese.