Ravencaller

by David Dalglish

  CALM, it spelled out in the air. NOFITE.

  Devin uncocked his pistol to its neutral position, holstered it along with sheathing his sword, and then awaited the mysterious creature’s arrival.

  The sound of splashing echoed through the tunnel as if invisible fish were thrashing at the surface. Devin and Jacaranda watched the water, confused. Large jets of water would fly into the air, buoyed by some unknown force, and then land with a great splash. They rushed on by, the sound thunderous in the quiet tunnel, then halted. The water grew perfectly still. Puffy put its hands on its hips and tilted its head to one side, seeming almost impatient.

  And then the first of the waterkin leapt out of the river and onto the edge of the stone. It was triple the size of Puffy, and composed solely of crystalline clear water akin to how Puffy was formed of perfectly controlled flame. It bore the same deep black orbs for eyes, like two floating obsidian spheres. Three more burst out of the water and landed around them upon the walkway. Water leaked out of their feet and steadily pooled back into the river flowing between the pathways so that they shrank in size to match Puffy’s. For a long moment they stared at one another, and if they were communicating, Devin did not see how.

  One of the waterkin poked Devin’s leg. Somehow, against all logic his brain could follow, it did not make his pant leg wet. Another hopped atop his arm, becoming snakelike as it swirled up to his shoulder. Devin kept perfectly still, trusting Puffy to keep them safe. So far the firekin had not moved from its spot, which led him to believe things had not yet turned dangerous. The waterkin lifted his tricorn hat off his head, hopped again, and then with a great splash it soaked his entire head and face, the drops racing down his chin to plop down to the ground and re-form.

  Beady little black eyes bobbed up and down. That reaction Devin did understand. The bratty little waterkin was laughing at him.

  “Devin,” Jacaranda said with the stern tone of an adult chastising a child as her hand closed around his wrist reaching for his pistol. “Behave.”

  “Tell them that,” he muttered. Two more waterkin shot into the air like projectiles, one splashing his face, the other his rear. Puffy’s shoulders sagged, as if disappointed in his fellow elementals.

  “I think they’re adorable,” Jacaranda said as more waterkin emerged from the river. She held up her hand, and one of them hopped up, took the shape of an orb, and somehow rolled across her palm. She gently lobbed it toward the ceiling, where it splashed, re-formed, and pirouetted during its descent. Several other waterkin dove back into the river, melding halfway into the flow so they appeared to zip about the surface like skaters atop ice.

  Puffy returned to Jacaranda’s torch. Its body elongated and shrank to form letters so they might understand it.

  U NICE. THEY NICE. C?

  “I see,” Devin said. “We’ll keep our weapons stowed away, assuming our weapons could even do anything to a waterkin. They are waterkin, aren’t they?”

  Two circles of smoke drifted above Puffy’s head in confirmation. The firekin hopped back atop Jacaranda’s torch. The remaining waterkin returned to the flowing river, merrily splashing and leaping about. The sound of their play slowly faded as the trio crossed the remainder of the tunnel, which broadened widely upon their arrival to the cistern’s main chamber.

  “Bless the stars above,” Devin whispered. “This is incredible.”

  Hundreds of pillars the height of five men spaced the cavernous cistern. The effervescent blue mushrooms, which had grown in straight lines above their heads while in the tunnel, painted the ceiling in long, swirling patterns that never seemed to end. The pillars themselves were decorated with five dragons chasing one another through the sky in loops. Water gently flowed down the pillars from distant pipes across the ceiling. Grooves upon the bottom of the pillars were cut so that the water’s flow across it mimicked the sound of a rocky spring. Green moss carpeted the entire underwater floor, and when Devin tested it with his foot, it was soft and spongy.

  “Only Low Dock and Tradeway draw water from this cistern,” Jacaranda said. “But there’s so much here… surely this was meant for the entire city?”

  “I think you’re right,” Devin said. “It wouldn’t surprise me if what people think are underground wells in the other districts also draw from this cistern’s tunnels.”

  There was no walkway to use once out of the tunnel, so Devin waded into the knee-high water to examine the nearest pillar. Each dragon carved upon it bore a distinct look from the others, varying in length and size, some even the number of legs. There was no question as to the identity of one of the five, its tall, spiky back and six stubby legs a clear imitation of the crawling mountain resting outside Londheim’s gates.

  “We knew about you once, didn’t we, Viciss?” Devin whispered as he trailed his fingers across the carving. He examined the others, wondering at their names. Which was Nihil, and which was Aethos? Was it the dragon with a body longer than a snake and a dozen arms? Or was it the one with three hills atop its back and its sides marked with caves? Only one dragon bore wings, and Devin felt a chill tickle his spine at the thought of something as gargantuan as the living mountain flying overhead.

  “I don’t see any of the chronimi mushrooms,” Jacaranda said, interrupting his thoughts.

  “It’s a big cavern,” Devin said. “Let’s not write this place off yet.”

  Devin took point, and he set their path so the wall to their right always stayed in view. If need be, they’d check row by row until they found their culprit. The mushrooms were down here, he felt certain of that in his gut. It was just a matter of finding where they grew.

  Water splashed to their left, too far to see in the dim light, but Devin assumed it was the playful waterkin keeping an eye on their progress. Jacaranda kept alert, and was clearly more nervous than him about their search. It almost made Devin laugh. Was he so inured to the strange and bewildering that water beings playing in a hidden cavern filled with magic mushrooms barely gave him pause?

  It took nearly five minutes to walk from one side of the cistern to the other, and they passed multiple side tunnels branching out for who knew what part of Londheim.

  “Surely this cannot all be rainwater,” Jacaranda said.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” Devin said. “How many secret little funnels throughout the city carry the water down here? And Londheim rarely floods no matter how hard it rains. Perhaps now we know why.”

  “Whoever built this system must have been brilliant.”

  “I’ll agree with you on that.”

  Devin shifted their path so they continued following an outer wall, figuring they’d loop toward the center of the room. They slowly covered ground, the sound of water a babbling brook in their ears. Devin could imagine himself coming down here just to relax in the peaceful atmosphere, away from people and the noise, and instead embraced by cool blue light and the steady flow of water.

  Neither Devin nor Jacaranda first spotted the house. Puffy had to hop twice atop the torch to get their attention and then guide them along by pointing the way. The house seemed to emerge from the darkness, a tall, square structure with four pillars as its cornerstones. From wall to ceiling, it appeared less built and more grown. Its color and texture were of deep brown mushrooms, and several types of fungi, notably little button mushrooms and the larger fieldcaps, sprouted like natural decorations. The roof was one enormous flat cap that sagged over the walls. The windows were oval gaps in the sides, with only the door appearing to be made of wood. Yellow light flickered through the windows, but something about its color was odd, convincing Devin that whatever cast it, it wasn’t fire.

  “How long do you think this home has been here?” Devin asked. This wasn’t something built, but something grown. Like with much of the changes throughout Londheim, it felt less like it had been constructed upon the black water’s arrival, and more like it had been revealed to the world.

  “It looks old,” Jacaranda said. “Very old.”

&nb
sp; “What do you think? Do we go up and knock?”

  “I don’t have any better ideas,” Jacaranda said.

  They both looked to Puffy. The firekin huddled a moment, then rapidly spelled out six letters.

  BCRFUL.

  “We will,” Devin promised. He kept a hand on the hilt of his sheathed sword. Jacaranda hung back a step as he waded to the enormous door, lifted his hand to knock, and then found it swinging open. A slim form towered over him, its skin wrinkled and dark like a raisin, and its head capped akin to the roof of its home. Long arms reached down to its knees, its eyes shone blue, and though it had no mouth, it somehow spoke with a voice that was a calm, soothing whisper into his ears.

  “Humans?”

  “Yeah, humans,” Devin said. “That’s us.”

  Normally he prided himself on being more diplomatic than that, but it was hard to think straight with the fungal humanoid leaning over him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that it was looking right through his skull and picking at bits of his mind.

  “Come in.”

  The creature moved aside and gestured for them to enter. Devin swallowed down his unease and stepped inside, Jacaranda at his heels. Despite the fact that it was all crafted from living mushrooms, the interior was surprisingly similar to a human home. There was a table with quite literal toadstools to sit upon, shelves with small wood covers, even a strange circular bed in one corner. Most important of all was the far side wall, which opened up into a sort of garden. Among the various mushrooms was a gigantic cabbage-shaped collection so white it seemed to glow.

  “Would you like tea?”

  “I, uh, sure,” Devin said. “My name is—”

  “Devin Eveson, son of Domnall and Rhonda Eveson,” the giant walking mushroom interrupted. “Jacaranda, forgotten daughter, and Crksslff, firekin ember of Fifissll and Chffswy. I am Trytis, a leccin grown of Gloam himself.”

  Trytis pulled a bowl of wood from one of his cupboards and dipped it into the water near its feet. Devin stood awkwardly by the door while Jacaranda moved to one of the stools and sat down.

  “What do you mean, ‘forgotten daughter’?” she asked.

  “You have forgotten their names, so I cannot know them,” it explained.

  “You—you can read our minds?” Devin asked.

  The leccin put the bowl to its hand. A slit opened across its wrist, and a dark powder trickled out of it into the bowl. Afterward it set the bowl into the center of its palm. Steam rose almost instantly as it began to boil, though from what heat, Devin could only guess.

  “I do not read minds,” Trytis said. Such a soft voice for a creature so large. “Your thoughts float. I taste them. Absorb them. I learn of who you are in all your contradictions and wonders.”

  It retrieved two cups from another shelf, emptied the bowl into them both, and then offered Devin and Jacaranda the steaming tea. Devin took his and smelled the contents. Mushroom tea, as he expected. Should he drink? Would it be considered rude not to? He had no idea. This was far from what he’d expected when traveling into the cistern. Jacaranda held hers to her lips and gently sipped at it.

  “So how does one end up with a home down here?” Devin asked. He kept an eye on Jacaranda to see if she showed any ill effects from the tea. So far, nothing.

  “This grand hall was built for the waterkin,” Trytis said. “And they were not always alone, but time has not been kind to us. This was my home before your Goddesses forced us into slumber, and it is my home once more.”

  Still Jacaranda showed no symptoms as he watched her from the corner of his eye. He lifted the tea to his lips, then checked with Puffy. The firekin remained atop Jacaranda’s torch, and it seemingly had no dire warnings for him, either. Deciding to the void with it, he took a sip of his tea. He expected a much stronger flavor, but it was just a hint of mushroom mixed with a bitter but pleasant combination of herbs. Devin stifled a chuckle. If Trytis set up shop in the market selling its tea, it’d be a wealthy leccin in no time.

  “We should focus on the task at hand,” Jacaranda said. She was frowning at him, he noticed, but he didn’t know what for. “People are dying, so we cannot afford delays. Trytis, those mushrooms growing in that garden, they are chronimi, are they not?”

  “They are,” the leccin said. “Though I marvel that you know their name. Did Crksslff tell you of their nature?”

  A tingly warmth ballooned in Devin’s stomach. He set his cup down and wiped at some sweat building on his forehead.

  “An onyx faery did, actually. Those chronimi are killing us up above, Trytis. We need you to destroy them.”

  The giant mushroom-person crossed its arms. Its blue eyes narrowed.

  “And so humans request more death to enable their continued spread across the Cradle. Is that not always the way of things?”

  “Our people are going mad,” Jacaranda said with a hard edge in her voice. “They’re murdering and eating each other. Call us monsters if you wish, but I think a small collection of mushrooms isn’t worth that much death.”

  The warmth traveled up from Devin’s stomach into his chest. The sweat had reached his neck now. Panic forced his hands to his weapons, but he found his fingers uncooperative. They slipped off the hilt of his sword, too weak to grasp it.

  “No,” Trytis said. Its calm whisper changed instantly, becoming louder, stronger. It should have put fear into his heart, but Devin found himself struggling to care. “Those mushrooms aren’t worth the death. That is not why I grow them. Logarius asked for them, and so I have delivered. I will not destroy them, and nor will I let you destroy them. They stay.”

  Devin stood on wobbly legs. Concentrating was increasingly difficult.

  “What—what did you do?” he asked.

  Trytis grabbed him by the front of his coat and lifted him off his feet. Jacaranda remained seated, her eyes glassed over. If she cared that he was about to die, she didn’t show it.

  “I bear you no malice,” it said. It pulled back a giant fist. “But I cannot have others come down here looking for the chronimi.”

  Puffy shot off the torch like a comet, the ball of flame aimed straight for Trytis’s chest. The leccin caught it with its free fist and slammed the firekin straight down into the water. Steam exploded throughout the room, coupled with an agonizing hiss. Devin fought his lethargy, feeling a steady bubble of rage counteracting the warmth in his gut. He’d drunk only a sip, he told himself. Just a sip. He could fight this poison. He had to!

  Bubbles formed a line to a wall, and then Puffy jumped out of the water. The firekin was dramatically smaller in size, and Devin’s heart ached at its weak tremble.

  “I find no joy in this,” Trytis said. Again it pulled back its other fist.

  Jacaranda moved with speed beyond what Devin’s hazy mind could follow. He saw her swords cut across both the leccin’s arms, then come together to slice a massive gash into its chest. Gray fluid poured out in a resemblance of blood. The leccin dropped Devin, and he landed in the water with a splash. Jacaranda and Trytis exchanged blows, her short swords cutting thinner and thinner grooves into its massive form as she was forced to duck and weave around its powerful punches.

  “Just hold on,” Devin said as he drew his pistol. It took all his concentration to pull the hammer back with his thumb. His other hand reached into the special bag of spellstones and drew one out at random. It was gold and black, its interior sparkling with trapped power. Devin slid it into the chamber and pulled the hammer all the way back. He had to use both hands, but he lifted it up and pointed in the general direction of the leccin.

  “Jacaranda!” he screamed. “Move!”

  She turned and dove face-first into the water beside Devin. He pulled the trigger. Down came the hammer, it pierced the spellstone in half, and then a blinding light filled the interior of the home, followed by such force that it flung the pistol from his hands. Lightning ripped through Trytis like a lance of the Goddesses themselves. When it passed through the leccin’s back, it hit
the wall and scattered in all directions. Devin screamed as zaps of it sparked through the water. His muscles seized. He feared his heart would explode.

  At last it faded. A smoking husk was all that remained of Trytis, and it crumpled to the water. Devin reached for Jacaranda but she had no need of his help. She pushed herself up and glared in his direction.

  “I thought you would use fire,” she said. “Lightning? While we’re submerged in water?”

  Under normal circumstances that death glare would have shriveled his testicles, but the lingering effects of the mushroom tea left him grinning.

  “Didn’t have time to choose, Jac. I just grabbed one and pulled the trigger.”

  Jacaranda stood, pulled her hair from her face, and then grabbed Devin by an arm to help him up. While he still felt sluggish, she appeared otherwise unaffected.

  “How are you unfazed?” he asked her. “You drank it before I did.”

  “I only pretended to drink the tea,” she said. “I didn’t think you’d be so stupid as to actually drink it yourself.”

  “You pretended too well.” Devin sagged his weight upon her. “Guess that’ll teach me to trust you.”

  “I’m the only reason you’re alive. I think you can trust me just fine.”

  “Got me there.”

  The little spot of flame that was Puffy hopped atop the chronimi mushrooms and settled in. Fire steadily spread across the mushrooms’ surface, feeding the firekin with its healthy blaze. Smoke built at the ceiling as Puffy grew in size. Jacaranda guided Devin to the door, and together they stepped out into the cistern’s cool air.

  Two waterkin waited with their bodies halfway out of the water. They stared with their beady black eyes. Ripples shook through them. Their anger was undeniable.

  “This doesn’t look good,” Devin muttered.

  “You have a bad habit of stating the obvious,” Jacaranda said.

  “Sorry, I’m used to having only myself as a conversation partner.”