by Cait Ashwood
Zeche awoke before the sun rose much higher, though his master was quieter than usual. Rowan helped break camp and stood waiting with his pack on his back.
“We’re going to Wefton to resupply.”
It was the first thing Zeche had said to him since waking. “We still have at least another week’s worth of rations.” The trip didn’t make sense. Could he know about the note? But no, Wefton was pretty far from Calanon, for someone on horseback, anyway.
“I said ‘resupply,’ not ‘get more food,’” Zeche snapped, shoving his spare cloak into his pack with more force than was strictly necessary.
Someone’s in a bad mood. Zeche got this way sometimes, so Rowan just went with the flow, phasing them into the small weaving city when Zeche was ready.
With conversation out of the question, Rowan had too much time to think about his mother. Why does everyone think she’s a hero? She doesn’t care for her children, so much so that she abandoned one and another has run away. Zeche had mentioned a half-sister, too. It was probably only a matter of time before that one found a way to be rid of her mother as well. Maybe I was spared the trouble.
Rowan stumbled to a stop as Zeche began bartering with some merchant or another. Apparently, he wanted a thicker pad for his bedroll, and the merchant was haggling more than necessary over the price. Poor fool had no clue who he was dealing with.
And maybe, neither do I. It was easy to hate this mother of his, but without meeting her, it was hard to tell if she truly was the demon he feared. With his sister’s life in the balance, if he was going to sit on this message, he had to be sure. Damned sure. And there was only one way to find out.
Rowan thanked his lucky stars that he’d been nosy enough while at Raven headquarters one time to snoop through their records room. He hadn’t been looking for anything specific, but accidentally stumbled upon a log entry of the day he was given into Zeche’s care. He knew the date. The location was easy enough to guess. The world around him grew fuzzy and started moving slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. Rowan barely had time to catch the outraged look on Zeche’s face before he was gone, the city melding into watercolor shades around him. Everything moving backward.
When he’d reached the appropriate date, he stopped. The world came to a crashing halt, colors restored with jarring accuracy. The change in the town was drastic and near immediate.
Where he’d been standing in a bustling market square moments before, he now stood in the middle of a neglected alley. A dog slinked away at his sudden appearance, every rib visible and its back hunched up,like the position somehow quieted its empty stomach. There was hardly anyone about, and those that were had the appearance of the dead. Their eyes had receded into their skulls, shadowed by fatigue. Cheeks were hollow, empty things, complexions wan and unhealthy.
This is what the world looked like before my mother took over?
At the end of an alley, a fight broke out. Rowan looked on, morbidly curious, as the men fought over a moldy scrap of bread. Nauseated, Rowan phased away from the combatants, the familiar stone of the Order’s Tower now in sight. It was dusk, the day before he would be taken. He wasn’t worried about how long he spent here; he could always return moments after he left. He simply had to be careful to avoid himself in different time loops, though this time wouldn’t matter. As a baby, he wouldn’t possess the cognitive abilities to recognize himself and cause any issues.
It was an imposing place, and not one that spoke of friendliness. Rowan tried to remember what was going on at this point in history. The old Order had been rescued, but hardly trusted. That explains the guards looking both inward and outward. The fears had proved to be in vain, thankfully, but Rowan wasn’t sure what he would have done with the women had he been in charge. He just knew that it seemed an unnecessary risk, what with his mother already in custody.
A shadow moved at the base of the tower, a shadow that had no business being there. Rowan glanced up at the wall. The guard watching that area was distracted in conversation with one of her companions. He shook his head, watching as the shadow lifted a sewer grate and slipped in. The grate slid into place just as the guard finished her conversation and resumed her watch. Laziness. He wanted to say it was a woman that had slipped inside, but he couldn’t be sure.
He waited for the cover of full darkness to make his move. He knew the Tower had methods to repel Seekers and wasn’t sure if they were currently active. He didn’t feel any disturbances in the magnetic fields, but he couldn’t be too careful. He followed the same path the interloper had taken earlier, keeping his eyes on the walls at all times to make sure his entry wasn’t discovered. He stopped shortly inside the sewer, casting about for any sign of the earlier person. He had better night vision than he’d admit to Zeche and was able to make his way without a torch, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.
He was accustomed to spending long periods of time in noxious environments. It was amazing just where sewers could lead you, after all. He finally reached a split in the path, a slight V shape. He hesitated, glancing around. He examined them with his various sights, but nothing stood out to him either way. Shrugging, he took the path on the right.
He mentally retraced the layout of the Tower. Zeche had made him memorize every floor, where every defense was, every possible entrance, everything. He might be called on one day to help defend the Tower, and he’d damned well better know it inside and out. From the path he’d taken, he’d come up in the kitchens. But I’m sure the electromagnets aren’t active. May as well minimize the risk, then. He’d phase to his next location to reduce the chance of anyone seeing him.
Nurseries were used mainly in the day time to corral unruly children. They’d be deserted at night, moved either to their family’s quarters or a separate sleeping room. It took barely a thought to get him to the nursery. He checked it over carefully to ensure he was alone, then examined the room for a good hiding place. He couldn’t be sure he would be kept in the nursery with the other children, but it was the best bet he had.
The hours passed slowly, but Rowan was used to long stake-outs, often with no payout. When the room was finally entered in the morning, he was well-hidden within a supply closet. He could hear every sound the woman made and had chiseled a brick loose that he could move to get a visual of the room.
Children are ridiculously loud. He didn’t want to reveal his hiding place too soon, or preferably at all, so he remained in hiding, muscles growing stiff. There was apparently a change of watch in the early afternoon, with a different Lily taking over. She spoke softly and seemed besotted with all the children. Her gentleness and tolerance with all their antics made him insanely curious. Something about her voice seemed familiar.
Rowan loosened the block, revealing a willowy woman with long blond hair, currently done back in a French braid reaching half-way down her back. She had kind gray eyes and wore the traditional white robing of the Order. The only thing setting her apart was the gold lily pinned to her lapel. She laughed when children grabbed at it, carefully removed their hands, and making little tisking sounds.
That’s her. He knew it somehow, perhaps instinctively. But which of the squalling babes was him? She paid no particular attention to any two children, not that he could tell from his limited vantage point, anyway. Two boys began fighting over a block and Audrey moved to intercept them when a red-haired baby girl about the age of one of the boys began squalling at the top of her lungs.
Audrey sighed, shaking her head. “Lily, you’ve got to learn to play by yourself sometimes.” Rowan heard a rattle, like Audrey was trying to distract his--sister.
“Indeed she does.”
That was a voice he’d know anywhere. He’d only been listening to it his entire life, every waking and resting moment.
“Zeche?” She sounded cautious, wary. The green flash of her eyes startled him.
Audrey saw him as a threat? Why?
“Audrey. It’s been a while.”
Rowan couldn�
�t see him, but he sounded rough. Moments later, a horn pealed from the walls. Voices began shouting everywhere. Zeche must have said or done something because Audrey raised an eyebrow and shrugged at him. Pounding footsteps echoed down the hallway and women rushed into the nursery, sweeping up the children and taking them out of the room.
The children gone, a purple flash blinked across the room. She’s definitely afraid of him, but why? Zeche always spoke of the friendship they had. Something wasn’t adding up.
Soldiers rushed into the room now, surrounding Zeche with bare blades. Knowing he survived was the only thing that kept Rowan’s instinct to fight alongside his mentor in check. He waited as they exchanged remarks back and forth until an interesting turn of phrase caught his ear.
“I’ve come to collect the debt you owe me.”
Debt? He never mentioned any debt.
A man with dark hair rattled off a sarcastic reply, which Zeche replied to in kind. A sinking feeling hit Rowan’s stomach all at once, and he had a feeling he suddenly understood where this was going.
Then, from the assassin’s lips, came the killer. “I want your son.”
Another man in the room shifted, though Rowan could only see his back. He had deep auburn hair, tied back at the nape of his neck. “What. The. Fuck.”
Rowan missed a bit of the arguing that followed. He was aware of Audrey saying something, and the level of anger in her voice was almost admirable.
His attention was next caught by his father, a man he’d seen but never met before. “Seems to me it would be much easier for us to just kill you now. My son isn’t going anywhere.”
Warmth fluttered in his chest but was quickly extinguished. Zeche had ended up with him, after all.
Zeche shrugged one shoulder, an accent Rowan had never heard getting thicker. “Well, you could, I suppose. Though with so many of my people on your walls and Nikita aware of my trip, I might not recommend it.”
The arguing went back and forth a while longer, and Rowan began to see the bigger picture. Zeche had demanded Rowan and threatened them with open war if he didn’t get what he wanted.
“Will I ever see him again?” Her voice cracked and she bit her first. Zeche answered, but it wasn’t the answer either Rowan or his mother wanted to hear. She broke on a sob, turning to the dark-haired man beside her.
A knot formed in his throat, the emotion in the room a tangible thing. They’d been outmaneuvered, plain and simple. And what was more, Zeche wasn’t the shape he’d followed into the Tower last night. That could only mean--
He wasn’t surprised as Nikita slipped into the room, a baby boy in her hands. That must be me.
Audrey ran toward his baby self flat-out, taking him from Nikita’s arms and cradling him close, sobs wracking her chest all the while. She seemed to completely lose herself, refusing to let him go even though she’d already agreed. She screamed, sounding like a mountain lion when they finally wrested him out of her arms. She collapsed after that, the dark-haired man barely managing to catch her before she hit the floor.
Zeche and Nikita left like the shadows they were, taking his baby-self with them. A healer brought up a cup of something hot for Audrey. She had to be forced to drink it. She was asleep within moments, and Rowan knew his time here was done.
She never wanted to give me up. The revelation was such a shock, he wasn’t at all sure he’d fully understood it yet. He’d only had a short time to truly villainize her in his mind. Where did this leave him?
Rowan waited for the room to clear. If the dark-haired man was who he thought he was, that meant he was Hound, one of the best trackers the Seekers had ever known. It was too dangerous to leave with that man able to follow him, though whether he could follow through time, Rowan wasn’t sure. He made a mental note to research that later, pushing it to the back of his mind.
As the room finally cleared out, Rowan had a single thought left: she hadn’t wanted to give him up, but she hadn’t been willing to fight for him, either.
He rematerialized a bit later than he’d intended, distracted. Zeche grunted from his position in the alley behind him, pushing off the wall like he’d been waiting a while. Zeche didn’t say anything but bumped his shoulder--hard--as he walked by. Silence suited Rowan just fine right now. Everything he thought he’d known about his life had just been turned upside down.
Chapter Eight
“Easy, boy.” Lily stroked the gelding’s neck, steadying the tremble in her voice. Her adventures in the world of freedom hadn’t started well, and things were keeping to that trend. If the awful storms that started the same night she snuck out weren’t bad enough, her rations had been spoiled by the rain. She didn’t have a tent or even spare blankets for Thunder. A barn with blown-open doors to shelter in was the only thing that saved them.
She’d been certain her luck would turn up after that. Instead, she found that the price to take the ferry was nearly triple what she’d been expecting due to the river flooding from all the rain. That, and the ferry master apparently took great offense to a horse on his barge. Still, they’d made it across, and she had no sign of pursuit. Of course, I may not actually see them coming. Her only hope hiding out in Ebonwallowe was that it would be the last place the Ravens might look for her, right under their noses.
The city sprawled out across most of her view. Wary of counting her money on the city streets, Lily took a quick inventory of the coins in her pouch. I might be able to get us lodging for a week. She’d hoped to have a lot more time before having to figure out what to do for coin. With a heavy sigh, Lily nudged Thunder forward, letting him pick his own path into the city.
She’d never seen so much black stone in her life. Some stones seemed to suck the light out of the place, while others reflected stabbing shards of sunshine that blinded unwary eyes. Some were decorated, but the true defining feature of the city was the statues. Standing at least twenty feet high, they dominated the skyline. There were six in the city proper, and another at the docks. Ebonwallowe was a trading hub and had supposedly grown a lot over the last decade and a half, due in no small part to the farms on the northern continent. Goods had to be transported somehow, and Lily could see the pointy tops of masts poking up over the smaller buildings near the docks.
Should be able to find inexpensive lodging there, right? She needed things cheap, but couldn’t settle where Thunder was concerned. The place had to be reputable enough to ensure he wouldn’t be stolen away in the night.
The stink of fish wafted to her nose as she turned Thunder toward the sea. She rode seemingly forever, getting cursed at as a nuisance by more than one busy passerby. None of the inns servicing the sailors seemed to have a stable. I guess they all travel by boat. Not sure where to turn, she waited for hand cart traffic to clear before turning Thunder around toward the inner city. It was getting dark and if there was one thing she knew about Ebonwallowe, it was that she didn’t want to be wandering the streets at night alone.
“Oy there, rider!”
Lily intended to ignore the call, but she was desperate for directions.
“Yeah, you there. You’ll be wantin’ a proper stable for that one, eh?” A swarthy woman emerged from the dockside crowd, jerking her thumb at Thunder.
She did not sound like a woman.
Lily cleared her throat, doing her best not to look down at the woman. “Uh, yes. Do you know a place?”
“New to town, eh? Well, head for the Maiden. Second street ea’ward after her, down on the left, there’s a place. Nice and rep’uble.” The woman smiled, showing a few missing teeth.
The Maiden? Oh, the statue! She knew they had names, but hoped it wouldn’t be too difficult to find the Maiden. She must have looked lost still, because the woman’s smile fell somewhat.
“Ya don’t know the Maiden, do ya?” The woman hardly waited for an answer, instead sticking two fingers in her mouth and releasing a shrill whistle. Youth swarmed to her call, ratty, ragged, and filthy. She looked them over for a moment before
selecting an older boy, maybe around ten years old. The others vanished with hardly a sound.
“Tommy, boy. Take this lady ’ere to to Saffron Shores. If you’re quick, she may ’ave a copper for ya.”
The boy gave her a grin and threaded his way immediately through the crowd, forcing a clear path for them to follow as long as they didn’t let him get too far ahead of them. A copper for the boy? I suppose I don’t have much choice. Lily loosened her pouch from her belt, fishing around until she felt the small, flat coin. She withdrew it, tucking it in her bodice before re-tying the pouch on her belt, tugging on it to ensure it was secure.
Their journey went well until some fancy merchant decided his carriage didn’t have to yield to other traffic. In his haste, he nearly mowed down a woman and her young son. He jerked on the reins in enough time to avoid them, turning his horse straight into another carriage. The wreck was a mess of bent metal and screeching horses. Thunder reared, front feet scarcely leaving the ground, but it was enough to scare Lily half to death.
“Easy, boy, easy. You’re not the one hurting.” She stroked him, thankful that his ears flicked back to hear her as she spoke. He was breathing heavily, but listening to her. Tommy reappeared moments later, beckoning her down a side alley.
The alley was dark and the walls of poorer houses pressed in on her from both sides. Thunder wasn’t a fan of the confined space either, but the boy had found an apple core in the street and was leading Thunder onward with the promise of goodies.
The statue of the Maiden finally came into sight and Lily was nearly faint with relief. Tommy turned down the second street, just as the woman at the docks had instructed. Lily didn’t see anywhere that looked like an inn and her trepidation must have translated to Thunder, who slowed his pace despite of the apple core bobbing delectably in front of him.
