Lament (Scars of the Sundering Book 2)

by Hans Cummings

  Magda spat on the ground. “Etrunia thinks these lands belong to them. Muncifer says no. A curse on Prince Gavril and the Manless.”

  Pancras rubbed his right horn. “We’ve just come from Almeria. You’ll be pleased to know Prince Gavril is dead. Princess Valene now rules, alone.”

  Magda took her husband’s hand and gazed toward the heavens. “Then Anetha grant her greater wisdom than her husband had.”

  Delilah trotted over to them and tugged on Pancras’s sleeve, recoiling when she brushed against his gloved, withered hand. “We’ve corralled the lizards in their pen, but someone’s going to have to watch them. Edric says he needs your help with your horse. He’s too short.”

  “Oh, we’ll take care of that.” Magda pushed her husband toward the horse. “Help our guests, Vasily.” She grabbed Pancras’s hand to keep him from following. “Now, you’re going to tell me all the news from Almeria.”

  The minotaur glanced over his shoulder at Kale and silently begged to be rescued. Kale waved at him, smiling, and then joined his sister and Kali at the nailtooth pen.

  * * *

  Magda brought forth a stool for Pancras and tended the fire while she questioned him about the current events in Almeria. “You must tell me everything about Gavril’s death. He was such a loathsome man. I want every detail.”

  “It was rather anti-climactic. That is, the people just seemed to go about their business. Of course, there was a lot of snow, so perhaps they celebrated in their homes. Or didn’t. I really can’t say.” Pancras was not about to reveal that he was directly responsible for the prince’s death. Loyalists might enjoy an opportunity for revenge, and one could never ascertain another’s political views on sight.

  “I imagine a lot of things will change in Etrunia now. Princess Valene is not Etrunian, you know.” Magda leaned close to Pancras and lowered her voice, as if she were sharing state secrets. “She’s from Vlorey, to the north. You can always tell them Vloreyans. You know, by their dark skin. Quite striking.”

  “Yes, so I heard.” Pancras decided indulging the woman was probably the best way to deal with her gossip-mongering. Just a humble traveler here. No need to fear a minotaur wizard. Without regard to veracity in rumors about Etrunian farmer superstition, he suspected most common folk would react poorly to learning he used to create undead for a living.

  “The snow was heavy in Almeria, too? Bad winter. Worst in years. Not the worst I’ve seen, mind you, but not the best either.”

  Pancras craned his neck to check on the draks. Kali juggled various bits of junk she found lying about, while Kale led the children in clapping to a rhythm. Delilah looked on while leaning on her staff, and Edric conversed with one of the tinkers.

  “Why the interest in Almeria? I would think folk like yourselves would be happiest left alone.”

  Magda tossed the stick she used to stoke the fire into the flame and stretched. “Born and raised just outside the walls of Almeria. When Gavril came into power, my family decided they’d had enough and left. My parents died that first winter out here, but I met my Vasily just after. We’ve been together ever since. It’s a hard life, but it’s honest and true.”

  Pancras respected that. Farms like the one Vasily and Magda worked dotted the plains. They were far enough away from each other that everyone had their privacy but close enough that help was never more than a few days away.

  “I’d better go see what’s keeping Vasily. He’s supposed be bringing back some chickens to cook.” Magda wiped her hands on her shirt and strode toward one of the other wagons.

  Pancras stumbled, almost losing his balance as he slid off the stool meant for humans. Delilah rose up straight when she noticed him approaching.

  “So? What’s going on?”

  “Nothing. Looks like it’s about dinner time. Have you done your magic tricks?”

  A cheer went up from the children who surrounded the draks. They turned from Kali’s juggling and shouted in unison. “We want magic! Magic us!”

  Delilah pursed her lips and passed her staff from hand to hand. “Kale, why don’t you show them how you can breathe fire?”

  Before Pancras protested, the children cheered, and Kale tossed back his head, loosing a gout of flame into the air. The collective oohs and ahs from the children drowned out any cautions Pancras offered. Kale flapped his wings, lifting himself from where he stood, and let loose again, spraying an arc of flames above his head. He landed and bowed to the clapping of tiny hands.

  “Fire! Now do magic! Magic, magic, magic!”

  Pancras nudged Delilah. “That was a short diversion. Surely, you have something to show them.”

  “Don’t you?”

  Pancras shuffled his feet, kicking a small rock. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea right now.” In truth, he had not attempted any conjurations since returning from the dead. Though he still felt the threads of thaumaturgy woven throughout the world, even the thought of using it caused a tickle in the back of his head. It was not a pleasant sensation and felt fiendish.

  “All right, fine. I’ll give them something to look at.” Delilah stomped over to the makeshift pen where the nailtooths were contained. She swung her staff in an arc in front of her, shooing the children away. Blue tendrils swirled around her head as she spun and pointed her staff into the pen.

  “Kalee’steen enoch leetiké goyna!”

  Dozens of boggins appeared in the pen, accompanied by multiple popping sounds. The children’s squeals of delight turned into shrieks of terror as the nailtooths pounced upon the boggins two at a time, rending the furry balls and tearing into them with toothy maws.

  Covering his eyes with his hand, Pancras backed away. He heard Delilah chuckling under her breath.

  “Aita’s bloody bones! What is going on here?”

  Pancras noticed a tall, rotund man approaching. His face was drawn together like he’d endured a lifetime of eating sour foods. Firelight glinted off his shiny bald head, and his eyebrows furrowed into angry Vs, a fuzzy wedge splitting his face in two. It was the tinker with whom Edric had been speaking.

  “You call this entertainment? What sort of minstrels are you?” He snatched up a screaming boy, patting the lad on the back as he spun on Pancras.

  “We’re not minstrels, just travelers.” Pancras held up his hands and stepped away from the angry human.

  “This is what passes for entertainment among you bull-headed, scaly bastards?”

  Pancras bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. The last thing he wanted was a confrontation. He felt the crackle of Delilah’s sorcery in the air.

  “This passes for feeding our mighty steeds, you fat… rock-headed looking…”

  Pancras glanced past the man to regard Delilah. Ethereal sapphire swirls danced around her hands and the head of her staff. Pancras narrowed his eyes as he glared at her and shook his head. “Everyone, calm down. This is just a misunderstanding.”

  Edric pushed his way through the crowd. “All right, all right. Look, the drak got carried away, all right? The lizards were hungry, and she conjures the boggins to keep them from eating whatever sheep or cows we might find. Better those boggins than one of your sheep, eh?”

  “That’s right.” Pancras nodded in agreement with Edric, patting the human on the shoulder. “It was an ill-timed feeding, I’ll grant you.” The crunching of bone and slurping sounds emanating from the nailtooth pen punctuated his point.

  “Hey, they got to see some real magic though, right? Not just kiddie tricks.”

  “Stop helping, Kale.” Pancras took the man by the arm. He turned him toward the pen. The nailtooths had finished with their meal and now groomed each other. “See? No harm done.”

  The tinker shook off Pancras’s grip. “No harm? Tell that to our children when they wake up screaming tonight with dreams of torn-up beasties in their heads.”

  “Oleg!” Magda shooed away the remaining children and observers. “Oleg, your boy needs you. His horse threw a shoe, and he can’t h
andle her alone. Get back to your wagon and leave these folk alone. Their ways are different is all.”

  Oleg grumbled. With one last, withering glance at Delilah, he stalked toward his wagon. Magda shook her head as he departed. “Always bending his iron, that one. They’re going to see sheep slaughtered sooner or later.”

  She stared at the draks, Edric, and Pancras and placed her hands on her hips. “Well, what are you waiting around for? Dinner’s on the fire. You want to eat, you’ll help me with these vegetables!”

  * * *

  Fire-roasted chicken with root vegetables was a greater meal than Delilah expected to find as they journeyed across the plains of Etrunia. She thought about complimenting Magda, but between the woman’s interrogation of Pancras about all things Almerian and Vasily’s nonstop stories to Kali and Kale, she couldn’t get a word in edgewise.

  It was just as well. A smile spread across her face every time she thought about conjuring those boggins for the nailtooths. I told them I wasn’t going to do any parlor tricks. I showed those human spawn some real magic.

  As the night dragged on and the fires died down, the air grew bitter and raw. When she exhaled, her breath was visible, and she noticed Kali was practically on top of Kale. Delilah felt a pang of jealousy, not for the attention Kali received from her brother, but rather for her brother’s high body heat that allowed him to weather the cold with a thin cloth cloak.

  Delilah shivered and drew her thick wool cloak around her. She scooted closer to the fire, holding her hands toward its warmth. Edric kicked her foot. “Hey, go check on the lizards.”

  She shot him a glance. “Why don’t you?”

  The dwarf glanced over his shoulder toward the horses. “Yaffa’s fine with the horses. The lizards are drak responsibilities. Scales for scales and all that.”

  Delilah cursed under her breath and shoved Edric as she stepped past. “You’re a pain in my scales.”

  She stomped her feet as she made her way to the nailtooth pen. It seemed to keep the chill at arm’s length as the warmth of the fire became a distant memory. The Eye of Tinian was low in the sky now, marking the inevitable pass of winter into spring, though she guessed it would be several weeks still before it was gone entirely. Muncifer is still so far away. The realization of how far she was from the only home she’d ever known caused a shiver to wrack her body. She gritted her teeth and studied the lizards.

  The nailtooths huddled together in a cluster at the center of the pen, sharing body heat and sleeping. After ensuring everything was secure, she turned to find a human child staring at her.

  She gasped and jumped backward out of reflex. It was almost eye level with her. She recognized the child as the screaming boy Oleg grabbed. It struck her how flat human faces were. His greasy, stringy hair fell down around his ears and across his forehead, and the cold air gave his broad nose a red tinge.

  “Were those real monsters you made your lizards eat?”

  Delilah stared at him, her mouth agape, before she glanced at the nailtooths and back at him. “They were real… they weren’t monsters though, not really.”

  She shifted her weight, desperate for the comfort of her staff. It was where she left it on the ground near where she had been seated in front of the fire.

  “What were they? I ain’t never seen things like that before.”

  “Boggins. They live in the mountains. In caves.”

  The child continued to stare at her. “Are they nice? Our sheep are nice. I cry when we have to kill one to eat it.”

  Delilah’s lips curled. “They’re nasty. They’re bitey and stupid.”

  “Oh.” He studied the grass and scratched his leg. “You’re a wizard.” It was a statement, not a question.

  Delilah answered anyway. “Yes. I’m a sorceress.”

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Wizards study arcana in schools. I learned it on my own.” I guess since I’m learning from a book now, I’m more wizardly than I used to be.

  “Huh. What’s your name?”

  “Delilah.”

  The boy stared at her, his brow creased in thought. “That doesn’t sound so wizardy.”

  “Well, what’s your name?”

  “Adric.”

  “Well, Adric”—Delilah offered her hand—“I’m sorry I scared you.”

  He took her hand and peered at it as they shook. “Okay.”

  Adric turned and ran. He glanced over his shoulder at the sorceress. “Time for sleep.”

  Delilah watched the boy jog away and then returned to the fire. Vasily continued telling stories, and Magda was deep in her interrogation of Pancras. Delilah huddled under her cloak with her staff and thought of volcanic fire. Maybe if I think I’m hot, I won’t feel so cold.

  Chapter 5

  Cold snaps were not unheard of as the season transitioned to spring, but Pancras had hoped they would not encounter one as they traveled to Muncifer. He shivered as he fell into a fitful sleep, despite having covered himself with numerous blankets and furs.

  The tickle in the corner of his mind, which Pancras felt earlier that evening, returned as his dreams resumed and whisked him away to magical places. It started light as a feather’s touch and then gripped his mind stronger and tighter like an iron vise. Eyes formed in the darkness, pinpoints like glowing embers in the night.

  The embers cooled, and the red glow faded to icy blue. A spectral visage formed around the eyes, a mask of death. A woman with sunken cheeks, skin stretched tight as a drum, smiled, her teeth sharpened into spikes as she grimaced in pleasure.

  Seek me out, Necromancer. Your life, your death, belongs to me.

  Pancras felt his throat constrict. He tried to awaken but could not. In his dream, he gasped for breath. The grip around his throat tightened.

  You can resist. You can fight. You can die. It is useless. Futile. Escape is impossible. Before the end, you will do my bidding.

  The grim visage faded and was replaced by a shadow with glowing ember eyes, its laugh a chill wind that froze Pancras’s blood.

  He awoke with a grunt, his withered hand locked around his throat. The world was covered in a dark haze, as if his face were covered with a black veil. Rolling over, Pancras groaned and pushed himself to his hands and knees. Dawn broke, the sun’s rays backlighting wispy clouds gliding across a rose sky. He rubbed his eyes with his unwithered hand. The haze faded, retreating to the edges of his vision. Edric, already up, stood talking with Vasily by the cooking fire. Delilah was huddled next to her brother, who was also lending his body heat to Kali.

  Vasily saw Pancras stir and raised a hand to him. “Good morning, my friend! Sleep well?”

  “Not really. I miss my bed.” Pancras rolled his neck and tried to work out the kinks in his muscles. The more he slept on hard-packed, semi-frozen dirt, the more he missed the comforts of Drak-Anor.

  “I have helped Edric feed your animals. If you would like to break your fast with us, you’re more than welcome to before you resume your journey.” Vasily offered Pancras a steaming mug of murky brown liquid.

  Pancras sniffed it. “What is this?”

  “Beef bro—oh.” Vasily snatched the mug out of Pancras’s hands. “My apologies. We find it’s a good way to start a cold day, but I expect minotaurs… well…” The color drained out of Vasily’s face, and he glanced about, as if planning an escape.

  “It’s all right, an honest mistake.” Pancras clapped Vasily on the shoulder. “Do you have any mulled wine? Cider? Anything like that?”

  Vasily sipped from the mug he’d taken from Pancras. “Yes, I’m sure someone does. I will find some for you.” He ran off, leaving Pancras with Edric and the draks.

  “What’s the plan for today?” Edric sat at the fireside. “Leave these tinkers behind as soon as possible?”

  “Yes, we must continue our journey to Muncifer. We can brook no delay.” Pancras nudged the draks with his foot. “Up you get! We must get going. Sleep in the saddle.”

  The ret
urn of the shadow in his dreams worried Pancras. He did not know to whom the shriveled visage belonged, but he was certain it was not that of Aita. The Princess of the Underworld never appeared as a desiccated woman; she either appeared as a bare skull or a dark-haired beauty. Not that Pancras had ever had a visitation from the goddess of death. If the shadow and its mistress were malevolent in any way, Pancras wanted to ensure no innocents were within their grasp.

  Despite their groans of protest, the draks pulled themselves together. By the time Vasily returned with a carafe of steaming cider, they were breaking their fast together with Magda. Pancras handed Vasily a handful of silver talons for their hospitality.

  “This should cover everything, including that sheep you fed to our lizards this morning.”

  Vasily counted the coins with a smile on his face. “You’re too generous. This is far more than that stringy mutton was worth.”

  Pancras nodded and patted the man’s shoulder. “Keep it. Share it with the others. May Cybele watch over your fields.”

  * * *

  To Delilah’s relief, they encountered no other travelers or settlements after leaving the tinkers and farmers behind. As the weeks passed, the sun traversed lazily in its heavenly track during the day, bringing the warmth of spring, though winter’s chill remained in the evenings. Her only regret was that she couldn’t study her grimoire while riding Fang; the book was too heavy to hold with one hand, and it required too much of her concentration.

  The rolling plains of Etrunia grew rockier the farther south they traveled until groves of evergreens dotted the hills. The mountains dominated the western horizon, like a great wall keeping the rest of the world at bay. The rushing waters of the Icymist River awaited them at the bottom of a valley.

  Pancras raised his hand and halted their progress. “We have to find a ford. Once we cross, the trade road from Almeria should be over the next ridge. We follow that, turn toward the mountains, and arrive in Muncifer within a day.”