“Within these walls, huddled in the arms of the Sisters, we are safe,” she told them. Her voice held firm with strength she certainly did not feel herself. “Sleep, and fear not. You will all see the dawn.”
It was one thing to ask for confidence amid the calm tolling of bells. It was another when the first of the ravenous beat their arms against the solid doors and begged for entry.
“Let me in!” a woman screamed. “I’m scared, I’m so scared… let me in, I’m only a little hungry. A little, just… let me in! Let me in!”
Fists pounded on the wood.
“Let! Me! In!”
Sena pretended not to hear as she moved to her lectern. Her appearance might be calm, but her heart raced. It’d be better if the ravenous were completely mindless creatures. If they didn’t speak, and only ate, then it’d be easier to ignore them. It’d be easier to cut them down.
More shouts. Sena clung to the lectern with her eyes closed and face down as if in prayer. A man’s voice, indecipherable through the thick wood.
Screams.
A snapping of bone. Long, long minutes of silence.
“Not enough,” a man suddenly shouted. The door rattled from his body slamming against it. “It’s not enough. It’s never enough! You hear me in there? Never enough!”
The men guarding the door readied their weapons, but their earlier bravado was long gone. No one wanted that door to give.
Sena looked about the church, certain something was amiss. Everyone was locked frozen in place, as if all time had ceased. Not for her, though. Her pulse pounded in her neck, and her every breath felt hot and rushed inside her lungs. Her temples throbbed from the worst migraine she’d suffered in years.
“Adria?” she asked as she looked for her friend. There, kneeling beside a father holding his crying child. Sena stepped toward the Mindkeeper and gestured to gain her attention. She kept still until Adria joined her and leaned in close, for she didn’t want to cause a panic.
“I think… I think something is wrong.”
“What do you…” Again the world stopped, only not quite. It moved at a snail’s pace, as if all the world swam through freezing water. Sounds elongated in her ears, warbled and stretched beyond deciphering. A sharp pain hit her stomach, accompanied by a wave of dizziness. For a moment she thought she might collapse from weak knees.
“… mean, Sena?” Adria finished.
Sena rubbed at her eyes and then rolled them back in her sockets. Goddesses above, it was so hard to concentrate. Between the headache and her stomach, it felt like her body was completely surrendering to the stress that had overtaken her lately. And would those sick bastards at the door stop beating on the other side?
“I forgot supper,” Sena said. “Stupid of me. Just an apple pastry for lunch, that’s all. Have you anything? Not much, I’m just… I’m hungry.” A little bit of drool slid down her lower lip. “So hungry.”
A crumb of bread crust. A boiled egg. A scrap of pork baked in fat. Goddesses, she couldn’t say for certain she wouldn’t devour a half-eaten apple she found on the floor. What had been a headache was suddenly replaced by an airy light-headedness.
How long had it been since she asked her question? Time was so weird now. Unsteady. Almost random. It must be because of hunger, she decided. Some people did poorly if going too long without food, after all.
“I think I do have something,” Adria said. “In my room.”
“You’re a lifesaver,” Sena said.
She followed her to the door in the far back, but twice she bumped into Adria, who seemingly froze at the most random of times. Sena felt her hands shake with impatience. If only she’d hurry up. It’d been a long day, a truly long day, damn it. She deserved at least this.
Sena stepped inside when Adria opened the door to her room, but couldn’t smell any food. No stashed bread crust, no leftover plate from an earlier meal. She whirled on the Mindkeeper, her eyes wide with betrayal to see the woman with her hands raised toward her, palms open. Faint light flickered from her fingertips.
“Blessed Sisters, I seek your protection,” said Adria.
Sena lunged at her, every corner of her mind flaring with rage. Adria would betray her? Her? After all she’d done, after sticking up for her to the Vikar? What selfishness. What wretchedness. Time warped and slowed with her approach, the words on Adria’s tongue dragging out into one long, indecipherable syllable. Sena’s hands wrapped about the woman’s throat. How dare she pray to the Sisters against her? She’d choke those words. She’d slap that mask aside and teach her respect.
Her mouth watered.
Sena’s fingers closed around Adria’s throat right as time crashed back to normal. Adria’s prayer halted, and a shocked gasp came from behind her porcelain mask. She grabbed at Sena’s wrists, but her ineffectual pawing didn’t loosen a single finger.
“So hungry,” Sena said. Her vision had started to blur. The light-headedness was only growing stronger. Despite the anger she felt in her breast, she laughed as if just hearing the funniest joke. “I’m sorry, Adria, so sorry, I’m not me when I’m hungry.”
Adria’s fingernails sank deep into Sena’s skin, and the pain was enough to cause her to gasp and release.
“I’m sorry, Sena,” Adria said with a hoarse, croaking voice. Her hand extended, and for one brief moment it seemed a star opened up in the center of her palm.
An invisible hook sank into Sena’s forehead, followed by an irresistible pull. Her body slid away, along with her sight, her hunger, her pain. She felt like a snake shedding its skin, or a butterfly emerging from its cocoon. The outer world faded into darkness as Sena’s mind collapsed in on itself. In that sudden void she felt warmth, a pleasant calm, and nothing else.
CHAPTER 9
So the city of compromise has become the city of humans,” Cannac said as the four crossed the last stretch of road leading to Londheim’s western entrance. The morning was chill but pleasant, as it had been for most of their travel to Londheim. “Strange how little it appears to have changed over the centuries.”
“It has changed plenty,” Tesmarie said. She hovered just above Tommy’s right shoulder, his constant companion on their return trip. The two humans rode their horses, with Cannac easily keeping up with his long, steady strides. “But only where our kind lived. Everything unique was boarded up and painted over. It’s still a pretty city, though! And maybe when things are peaceful, it might be made even prettier with our help.”
“I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Jarel muttered.
“You think cooperation impossible?” Cannac asked.
“No, I think it will be years before things resemble anything close to ‘peaceful.’”
Tommy disliked the pessimism but found it hard to argue against. Ever since the black water had washed over West Orismund, it felt like they’d not had a single day of rest. Given that civilizations such as the dyrandar, lapinkin, and viridi were reemerging on supposed “human” lands, brand-new conflicts loomed heavy on the horizon. If only people could see these new magical creatures like he saw them! Puffy, Tesmarie, even Cannac, they were honorable and funny and wonderful in a myriad of ways.
But until that happened, anything the slightest bit different would be terrifying, which led to a concern that’d pressed on his mind during their journey home.
“So what do we do about, um…” Tommy gestured at Cannac. “Minimizing panic?”
“People will panic at the sight of me?” the dyrandar asked.
“Everyone’s been jumping at shadows since that damn mountain crawled to our doorstep,” Jarel said. “And given how the first few creatures we met started eating us humans, can you really blame us?”
Displeasure crossed the dyrandar’s face, a unique expression to see on a deer. Tommy assumed it was displeasure anyway. Reading any emotion on Cannac’s face was always a trick.
“I warned Arondel to keep her flocks in check,” he said. “Short moments of petty rage may seed years of consequences.
So be it. I would not cause undue fright in the populace. Halt, please, so I may prepare.”
Their ponies shook their heads in annoyance at the delay. Both could see home ahead, and they knew water and rest awaited in their stables. Tommy soothed his mount as best he could by patting it on the side.
“Not long,” he whispered to it. “I promise.”
Cannac pressed his fingers together and lifted his arms up to eye level. His deep chant emanated from his throat with the depth of stone. It felt like the words and voice had existed since time began, and Cannac were merely a conduit for its release. Tommy watched with unabashed awe. To think mere months ago he had lived in a world without magic or magical creatures. Despite the occasional terrors, Tommy wouldn’t go back for anything.
“I am a man of the human world,” Cannac said with eyes closed. “So I dream, so it becomes truth.”
Clean white light swelled between Cannac’s palms, lifted to the space above his antlers, and then silently burst into a thousand little stars that fell like rain upon the dyrandar’s body. A haze washed through Tommy’s mind, and when he blinked it away, he discovered a muscular man with dark trousers and a faded gray shirt standing where Cannac had been.
“Let us continue,” the man said, his voice still the same. “I can maintain this dream only for a few hours.”
Tommy desperately wanted to ask questions as to what spell the dyrandar had used, but Jarel merely rolled his eyes and ushered them both along with a smack of his reins. With Jarel’s accompaniment, they easily passed through the checkpoint at the gates, with Tesmarie hiding in Tommy’s pocket and Cannac earning only a curious glance due to his still intimidating size. Once they’d returned their ponies, Jarel crossed his arms and gestured northward.
“I take it you can handle him until my uncle is ready,” he said to Tommy.
“Wait, what do you mean?” Tommy asked. “Aren’t we going to meet the Royal Overseer?”
“I’m not bringing a shapeshifting, mind-reading deer person to my uncle’s mansion without proper preparation. You’ve already threatened us with your growing army, Cannac. It’d be foolish of me to risk you learning more than we wish to reveal, and that’s assuming your intentions are purely benign. I’m sorry, but I need to be smart about this.”
This didn’t seem smart at all, but Tommy’s frustration was not mirrored by the dyrandar.
“I understand your caution,” Cannac said. “Where shall I stay until then?”
“You’ll lodge with Tommy in the Wise tower. Consider that an order from Albert himself.”
Tommy stammered a moment, totally flustered. The whole time he’d assumed the Royal Overseer would house Cannac like he would any other honored diplomat.
“I—I—I guess that’ll be fine,” he said.
“Very well,” Cannac said. He bowed his head to Jarel and then turned. “Lead on, Tomas.”
Tommy hurried down the main roads toward the Wise tower. He cast occasional glances Cannac’s way, paranoid that his disguise would falter and a crowd would form. He was so nervous that it was Cannac who first noticed the city’s strange quietness.
“Tell me, Tomas,” he said. “Are all homes usually boarded up in such a manner?”
Tommy glanced about. Ever since the owls started attacking at night, the occasional paranoid person had boarded up their windows, but now it seemed every single building had covered its windows, and some even their doors. He turned his attention to the people milling about the streets, saw how nervous they looked, how bloodshot their eyes. Fear hung in the air like a stench.
“Something’s wrong,” Tesmarie said. She’d poked her head out from his pocket and was frowning at a group of four men chatting quietly by a lantern pole. “Everyone’s time feels… messy. Impatient. And that man there, he’s completely unstuck.”
“Unstuck?” Tommy asked, bewildered. “What do you mean?”
She shook her head and slipped back out of sight.
“I don’t know how to explain it. Let me think for a bit, all right?”
“Of course,” he said. His throat constricted, and he felt his pulse quickening. “No problem. I’m sure it’s nothing, nothing at all.”
Tesmarie flew out of his pocket once they reached the Wise tower. Malik was yet to meet the onyx faery, and given Cannac’s arrival, it seemed a bad time to start.
“I’ll wait out here,” she said. “Try to be quick. I’m really worried about these unstuck people. We need to talk to Devin and find out what he knows.”
Tommy knocked five times before Malik unlocked and unbarred the heavy wood door.
“Thank the stars you’re back,” Malik said, flinging his arms around Tommy. “I feared you’d return after dark and be caught completely unaware.”
“Unaware?” Tommy asked. “Unaware of what?”
Except his mentor and friend had already turned his attention to their seemingly unassuming guest, who had followed Tommy into the wide foyer.
“Hello?” Malik asked. “Might I ask who you are?”
Tommy had hoped to explain everything to Malik over a relaxing cup of tea, and warn him about Cannac’s disguise. The dyrandar, however, held no such concerns. A press of his fingers and his body shimmered a rainbow of colors, followed by a single flash. In its wake returned Cannac’s original, enormous form. He looked almost comical in a room far too small for him, and he had to bow his neck and shoulders to keep his antlers from pressing the low ceiling.
“Cannac, this is Malik,” Tommy said, trying not to laugh as he made the introductions. “Malik, this is Cannac, a dyrandar.”
Malik’s jaw dropped open, and he grabbed the edge of a side table to steady himself.
“Shame on you, Tommy,” Malik said, his voice surprisingly calm. “You should warn me when we’re having guests.”
“I have come to speak with your Royal Overseer as a representative of the dragon-sired,” Cannac said. “Tomas was kind enough to offer me a place to stay as I wait.”
“Of course he did,” Malik said. He looked torn between laughing and fleeing the room screaming. “Please, have a seat. I need to speak with Tommy a moment in private.”
Cannac glanced at the two human-sized chairs beside the fireplace.
“I shall stand,” he said.
“Right,” Malik said. “Sorry. Just a moment.”
He pulled Tommy through the doorway into what served as the tower’s tiny kitchen.
“The city is tearing itself apart at night and you show up with a half-deer, half-human giant and expect us to play host?” Malik asked.
“What do you mean?” Tommy asked. “What’s happening at night?”
“You don’t know. Of course you don’t know.” Malik rubbed at his temples. “Some sort of curse has hit Londheim, especially the southern portions of it. When night falls, a fraction of the people turn mad. They—they’re eating people, Tommy. It’s a fucking nightmare. No one knows the cause, or who’ll be affected next.”
Tommy stammered for a moment as his brain tried to digest the information. People were turning into crazed cannibals? Goddesses above, that couldn’t possibly be right.
“There’s—there’s got to be a reason,” Tommy said. “We can investigate it, find the cause, find a cure.”
“And how do we do that with Cannac in our tower’s living room?”
“This wasn’t my choice. Jarel ordered him to stay here. I thought he’d be at the Overseer’s mansion!”
“I will leave if my staying here is unacceptable,” Cannac called from the other room. “I do not wish to be a burden.”
Malik shot Tommy a bewildered look as to how the dyrandar overheard their conversation.
“He can read emotions and thoughts,” Tommy explained.
“Wonderful.” Malik returned to the living room, and he put on his best welcoming face, which meant it was slightly less rigid than normal. “Do not mistake surprise for disapproval. I am happy for you to stay here, but I fear our tower was not constructed with
someone of your proportions in mind.”
“A matter of little concern,” Cannac said. “Worldly limitations often fall to otherworldly solutions.”
Before Tommy could ask what that meant, the dyrandar began chanting. His strange words washed over them, and it seemed the tower itself vibrated to the sound of each ringing syllable.
“Take hold, dear Gloam,” Cannac whispered upon ending the chant. “I relinquish this world to your pristine thought.”
Sweat rolled down Tommy’s forehead and neck despite the bite of early winter that crept through cracks in the walls. His heart pounded in his chest, and he realized a panic attack was threatening to overwhelm him. It wasn’t because he was afraid. It was because the world before him had stopped resembling the firm reality he’d understood his entire life.
The room expanded, the walls billowing outward as if they were curtains and not stone. The ceiling did not lift. It simply ceased to be. An infinite expanse of darkness replaced it, formless and empty. Tommy couldn’t decide if he’d grown, the furniture had resized, or Cannac had shrunk, but suddenly the chairs and couch by the hearth seemed the perfect fit for all three of them. The dyrandar carefully settled into one, a contented sigh escaping his lips as he was able to relax his neck and shoulders without a roof to constrict his antlers.
“How—how did you do this?” Tommy asked. It felt like reality had turned wobbly.
“I am a master of visions and dreams,” Cannac said. “And what is this world but a dream?”
Malik looked like a child standing before a wealth of presents.
“Gloam,” he said. “Your power comes from Gloam?”
The connection clicked in Tommy’s mind. Gloam was the only school of magic that Malik could successfully manifest, and before him sat a creature with power leagues beyond what they’d encountered in scrolls and books of spells concerning the discipline.
“We dyrandar were Gloam’s very first creation,” Cannac said. “As such, he bestowed us a great portion of his power. You intrigue me, Malik. What do you know of Gloam?”
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