As the Crow Flies: An Epic Fantasy Adventure

by Robin Lythgoe

  I looked at my hands. Caught up with the excitement of hatching, I’d given them no thought at all. How glorious to find them looking quite normal, the abrasions fairly well healed, and with no traces of green. They trembled, and although that was only to be expected after my ordeal, it did not reassure me. Survival had always demanded that I be fit and in control.

  A few more carefully worded questions to Girl did nothing to fend off exhaustion, and before long I found myself nodding off. The hatchling snoozed through the entire exchange, and didn’t wake until nearly dusk. Then it staggered about the floor investigating everything, tripping over its tail, overbalancing with its clumsy wings, and landing on its snout repeatedly.

  “It’s a boy,” I pointed out during one of its attempts to flounder upright. That it could ever grow to resemble the deadly, graceful creatures that had attacked the village seemed amazing. Girl’s attitude softened as she watched, and she even smiled once or twice at its—his—antics.

  She apparently took her job as guardian seriously, for she continually peeked through the cracks in the walls, and when noise outside heralded the arrival of a rider, she had the spanned crossbow in her hand and pointed at the door before I could even put down my bowl of soup and reach for my knife.

  Tanris stepped in, brows and empty hands lifting. “It’s just me.” He regarded me for a long moment with an expression I could not readily interpret. “I couldn’t find anyone who could help. Doesn’t look like you need it. You’re better.”

  “Mm,” I nodded, and resumed my meal. I could call it that, though I didn’t typically find broth particularly satisfying. I was at least no longer directly in the middle of expiring, though I felt like death’s leftovers.

  He shed coat and weapons, and Girl ladled some soup out for him. “Have the fits stopped?” he asked her.

  I resented his choice of words. It made me sound like a lunatic, and I didn’t much like to contemplate how close that might be to the truth.

  She nodded, and he pinned a searing gaze on me. “What happened?” he demanded.

  I blinked at the accusatory tone of voice. “I am getting better. So sorry.”

  “It just seems flappin’ strange to me. You’ve had what? Three magical attacks?” That many? I made a grimace of distaste, but when I opened my mouth to speak, Tanris continued. “No, four. First Duzayan in Marketh. Then the Ghost Walk, that statue in the Vault, then—well, I suppose if we counted both wizards, you’re up to five.”

  “Who would have imagined I would be so popular among magicians and so cunning at escaping their wiles?” I quipped.

  “I don’t know if I’d call it escaping.”

  “Duzayan’s poison didn’t kill me.”

  “Yet. We don’t even know if your sickness is from that or one of your other encounters.”

  Logical, I supposed, but a tad depressing. “The symptoms matched what he predicted,” I said sullenly. He’d missed my bouts of turning green and talking to the air. I was pretty sure Girl wouldn’t tell him about that, but she shook her head, wriggled her fingers, and then pulled at her assortment of layered shirts until she found a greenish one and pointed at it enthusiastically. Whose side was she on, anyway?

  Tanris eyed me narrowly, but questioned Girl. “He turned green?”

  She nodded. Loudly. Could have heard it in whatever village Tanris had gone traipsing off to, no doubt. Then she made an opening and closing motion with her hand, fingers straight.

  “And talking. To himself?”

  More loud nodding.

  I grimaced. “I wasn’t talking to myself.”

  “Then to who?”

  This was going to sound good. “The Ancestors.”

  Tanris nodded slowly. “Dead people.”

  “Well… yes. I suppose so.”

  He nodded again, then sighed and set his empty bowl aside. “You want to tell us what’s going on? You’ve been acting strange ever since the Ghost Walk. You hear things, see things, say strange things. You know details you can’t possibly know on your own. What is this, Crow?”

  “I don’t know why you’re asking me, I know as much about magic as you do.” I glared fiercely at no one in particular and tipped my bowl up to drain the contents.

  “You couldn’t do any of this before that—magic or whatever it was went into you?”

  “No.” I wondered why I told him anything at all.

  He sat quietly for a bit, thinking, rubbing his thumb up and down his jaw. He needed a shave, too. Again. “Maybe your experience in the Walk did something to your mind.”

  “Made me crazy?” I snorted a laugh. “Don’t you think I haven’t considered that?”

  “How can we trust it, Crow? How can we trust you?”

  “After all the years you’ve spent mistrusting and doubting and condemning me, now you want to trust me?” How absurd.

  “I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” Angry, his volume increased with each word. Off to the side, Girl sat very still and silent, hugging her knees tight and looking more pale by the instant. “If I don’t work with you—and that requires some sort of trust—I don’t get my wife back. I assure you, it is a temporary condition,” he growled, tossing my own words back at me.

  “Well, thank the gods!” I exclaimed with some heat. “I wouldn’t want to have to like you or something!”

  “You’ve never liked me, why start now?”

  “Not true.” I emphasized with a sharp jab of my index finger.

  It was his turn to snort. “When did you ever?”

  “Clear up until you collapsed in a heap on the street in front of Duzayan’s mansion. And that might have been endurable, understandable, even, but then you went and got completely, uselessly, stupidly drunk. How such nonsense ever—Augh.” I tossed one hand in the air in a gesture of disgust. “All right, fine, I never really did like you, but I respected you.”

  “Really?”

  I gave him a Look with a capital “L,” eyes narrowed. What did he expect from me? More to the point, what did I want from him? Nothing. I would not have minded at all if he had stayed behind in Hasiq jum’a Sahefal to help the wretched villagers recover from or escape the ravages of the dragons. I didn’t need a trail guide. I had only to head southwest and I would eventually come to the Le’ah River, where I could put myself on a boat and speed south and thence to Marketh. Except… Tanris and Girl had certainly come in handy when the dragon had attacked, and I hated to consider what might have become of me in my illness had they not been there to tuck me away in a little barn and feed me broth. I could not know if the sickness had passed completely or if it would strike again between here and the city. Besides, Tanris did want to help me annihilate Baron Duzayan, an endeavor which might actually require, if not a partner, then a modicum of cooperation. Putting forth a little effort to assuage his self-image couldn’t hurt. “Yes, Tanris, I did. Do.” Could, if he kept himself pulled together.

  A little creak came from behind me in the blankets, a rustle, and then the hatchling came lurching out like a drunken sailor. He paused to yawn theatrically, and Tanris stared.

  “That’s a dragon,” he said.

  “Yes, I noticed that, too.”

  “Where did it come from?” Alarmed, he looked about for the egg, the remains of which I’d tucked near my things. I’d persuaded Girl to wash the shell out in case we could figure a use for it. “How did that happen?”

  Had he really just asked that? I made a little scratching motion with my finger. “First by scraping a little hole and then making it bigger and bigger. I intervened before the casing got completely ruined and used my knife and a spoon to get the baby out the rest of the way. Easier to sew or glue back together if we need to.”

  Tanris stared from the little dragon to the empty egg casing and back, his face transforming into a mask of horror. “What—”

  “No,” I said very firmly. “Do not ask what happened. You know perfectly well what happened. And do not ask what we will do now. Believe me,
I have pondered the same question. Do not try to kill him, either. Most likely he is exactly what Duzayan wants, and if it was instead the egg itself he needed, we can try to bargain with it or threaten or—or train the wretched beast to attack him and peck his eyes out.” Could one train a dragon to do anything? And how long did it take for one to reach full size?

  “We can’t take this back to him!”

  I crooked my brows. “Can we not? We will bring the dragon and we will bring the casing, and it was you yourself who pointed out that the baron did not set out what shape the egg had to be in, merely that it arrive within the specified time.”

  “He’ll kill us.”

  I gave him a scathing look. “And that changes things how?”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it again and shook his head, still watching the dragon teetering one way, then tottering the other.

  “He’s kind of cute, eh?”

  “Cute?” His face contorted. “Are you serious?”

  Wisdom prevented me from mentioning the cat, particularly as a tool for ridicule. Hitching myself closer to the fire, I poured some more soup into my bowl and then added a little water to cool it, wondering if dragons were born with the ability to breathe fire, and if hot soup was actually a problem. Tanris watched in morbid fascination as I donned my gloves, put the baby in my lap, and proceeded to feed it broth.

  “Is it going to eat much?”

  “I suppose if we don’t feed it properly we’ll stunt its growth.”

  “And that would be a shame.” I detected a definite note of sarcasm. “How are we going to get a dragon from here to Marketh?”

  “We should probably purchase a cage,” I suggested. “And a sturdy cover.”

  “And a wagon,” he nodded. “This isn’t going to be easy, you know.”

  I crooked a brow. “Remind me which parts have been easy thus far?”

  He scratched his chin. “There was the mayor’s house in Uzuun.”

  “The one bright spot in this whole adventure,” I agreed. “And I did like Old Jelal’s loft.”

  “You? A loft?”

  “I am that desperate for a soft, warm, dry place to sleep.”

  “This one’s not too bad.”

  “Except for the constant draft blowing through.”

  “It won’t be long now,” he murmured.

  Relatively speaking, I supposed he was right, and the knowledge brought both relief and terror. The horrible journey would end, but would I be able to enjoy all the freedoms I had once known? I highly doubted Duzayan would give me the antidote. Why would he? It would be to his advantage to either keep me in his employ and dependent on him, or kill me outright. Did I still need the antidote? There was only one way to find out. I would stop taking my two daily drops, and if I became ill again, why, then I would know.

  — 26 —

  Well-Earned Respite

  Dumpy and gray, the ugly town of Irfan squatted on the bank of the river like a lazy old woman who took no consideration of her appearance. She had bad breath, too. The heavy scent of fish both fresh and rotten—and other putrid things I had no desire to identify—hung in the air, an intrinsic by-product of the mud-filled streets. They twisted this way and that, curled, ragged, unkempt. Even road-weary, we were still cleaner than Irfan, and that alone drew attention.

  “I told you it wasn’t a good place to stop for bed and a bath,” Tanris muttered, hat pulled low over his brow and one hand on the hilt of his sword. He’d planned our arrival for morning so we would have time to tend to our business and depart as soon as possible, preferably before we drew too much attention. A pair of hard-looking youths followed us for too long to mean well or be possessed of simple curiosity. I turned in my saddle and watched them like I hadn’t eaten for days and they looked like they’d make a passing fine meal.

  “Stop trying to pick a fight with the locals, Crow.”

  “I’m not doing anything more than they are.”

  “You’re challenging them.”

  He must think I had just fallen off the potato cart. Most thieves and bullies, if they know that you know they’re there, will quietly disappear. It is a matter of self-preservation not to be identified. Assassins and murderers, most especially, do not wish to be seen. While their plans most certainly include someone’s extinction, there is always some slim chance, some unpredictable interference from the gods, that may preserve the lives of the victims and bring the would-be criminal to an end. I faced forward again, and Girl squeezed between us, making progress up the street considerably more difficult. The barbed edges of her uneasiness prickled.

  “I just want them gone,” I grumbled.

  Gone… gone… gone… echoed back at me. Through me.

  “We’ll stick to the busier parts of town.”

  “Oh, I like that idea. Let them herd us right into place. Make it even easier for them. Thieves like few things better than so-called “average” strangers. There’s no one to—”

  “Stow it, Crow, I don’t need a lecture.”

  Of course he didn’t. He knew everything. Ahead of us, a cart pulled out across the way and immediately caused a small traffic jam, leaving an obvious and easy way around it to the right. “Go left,” I said, and suited action to deed, reaching out to grab hold of Girl’s reins and pull her along with me. “Quickly.”

  “What are you trying to do?” Tanris protested. We had to squeeze one-by-one through the opening between the end of the cart and the corner of a building. A tall man stepped into my way to wave his arms and holler about the lack of room and what was I doing, crazy fool, but I urged Horse forward. Ears back, she shouldered him out of the way and trotted ahead a few steps. With Girl right behind me, the man had no choice but to step out of the way, but he let us know in no uncertain terms that we had less than the usual capacity for brains. Tanris made it through as the cart driver urged his animal into motion. Backwards. That didn’t look at all suspicious, now did it?

  Nevertheless, Tanris’s temper simmered. “Do you even know where you’re going?” he yelled, guiding his horse up next to me and forcing Girl to fall behind. It made her nervous.

  “I know where I’m not going. Look behind and tell me there aren’t three boys now. Third one’s a little fellow, but he’s quick.”

  “What—” Glaring, he turned in his saddle. Sure enough, three boys now followed us. I couldn’t hear over the noise of the horses, but I’d have bet good coin that Tanris ground his teeth.

  “Watch. One of them will run off. Watch,” I ordered when he would have turned back. “He’s going to go down an alley or through a building and run ahead to set up the next ambush.” I knew exactly when it happened just by the way Tanris stiffened. “Now we’ll go the other way. Just keep an eye out. You’ve got a perfectly good pair of them.”

  The hatchling chose that instant to bump about in my saddle bag, where I’d had to put him not only to protect myself from sharp claws, but to keep him out of sight of the locals. We’d hoped he would stay asleep until we’d purchased a crate for him and arranged transportation down the river. I waited until we’d gone down the new street a little distance, then called out to my companions. “Stop here!” Slipping from the saddle, I had to hold on for a moment or two to keep my knees from buckling beneath me. The exercise, small as it was, made me lightheaded and suddenly clammy. When I could stand straight again, I settled my disreputable hat on my head and watched our shadows out of the corner of my eye while I made a show of refastening some of my gear. During the course of the task, I tipped a few grains of Adamanta Dust into the saddle bag.

  “What are you doing?” For a man that had lectured me about trust, Tanris was awfully suspicious.

  “I’m just putting the baby to sleep.”

  “What?”

  “Sleep. Drugs. You’ve heard of them?” I refastened the buckle, then struggled back aboard Horse.

  “What did you use?”

  “If I told you, would it make you feel better?”

  �
��Maybe,” he said dubiously. “Is it safe?”

  “Is having the baby out and about safe?”

  He gave me one of his long, inscrutable looks, this one threaded with distaste. “You are the most unprincipled blackguard I have ever met.”

  “I have principles.”

  “Whatever is yours is mine?”

  “That’s one of them, but do you really want to discuss this here?”

  Another long look, then he moved away, turning back to point at me with his highly dangerous index finger. “It better not be d—” A simple crook of my brow changed what he’d been about to say. “Ruined.”

  While he guided his horse into the street, I searched through the crowd until I found our shadows again. I pointed from my eyes to them. The dry rustle of Voices stirred around me.

  Gone… gone… gone… they said.

  “I wish they were.”

  Danger…

  “Yes.” Those boys and their cronies had the possibility of ruining everything, of having us robbed, if not killed, and detained, if not imprisoned.

  The Voices gained volume, chattering and whispering so many things at once that I could not follow what they said. I made out a few words: peril… death… hurt… cursed… fear… A chill air whisked around me, flipping up Horse’s mane, pushing the brim of my hat, tugging at my clothes. Horse danced a few nervous steps, but the sense of presence sped away down the street. Flying leaves and debris marked its passage, and then it whirled wildly around the boys. It looked like nothing so much as a dust devil, but I had felt that chill and I watched the boys covering their faces and screaming. A few others got caught in the uncanny wind, and they moved away hastily, but the wind closely followed our shadows as they tried to stagger out of its path.