Ravencaller

by David Dalglish

  Finally a crack in Forrest’s confidence.

  “None,” the Vikar said. “So far.”

  “And you won’t receive any.”

  “So you deny it?”

  This was it. His last chance. He could come clean about what happened, and explain that Jacaranda had awakened. He’d still be at fault for certain things, particularly in hiding her awakening from the church, but it’d be better than being proven a liar. Normally hiding anything from his Vikar would have never crossed his mind, but Jacaranda…

  He let out a low sigh. No. If Jacaranda wanted to make her presence known to the church, it would be her own decision, not his.

  “Yes, I deny it. Every word.”

  Forrest looked to his little squad at the firing range. It was like he was embarrassed to even make eye contact.

  “Good. I hope to Anwyn that’s the last I hear of this, Devin. You’re a good man, and a great Soulkeeper. I can’t afford to lose you to something like that. You have plenty of coin, and a lot of night women to choose from. Stick to what’s legal.”

  Devin swallowed down his indignation.

  “Is that all you needed of me?” he asked.

  “Yeah. That’s all.”

  Devin bowed with a fist to his breast.

  “Then excuse me, but I have more important matters to attend to.”

  Devin hung his belt by the door, and he spared a glance at the fireplace. Still empty, as best he could tell. Puffy had not returned since their trip into the cistern. He prayed the little firekin was safe.

  “Hey, Devin,” Tesmarie said, perking up from her padded shelf. “Is something wrong? You look… upset.”

  “It’s fine.” He set his sword and pistol on their hooks, then removed his coat. “Jac in her room?”

  Tesmarie zipped over to him and yammered away a few inches from his ear.

  “Yup-yup. We went to market for some milk, a book, and some bread, and you wouldn’t believe how much the price of everything has gone up. I mean, I barely understood it, but Jacaranda did! And it’s a lot! Anyway, we came home not long after, and she had her book to read, and I was tired, so I napped. I assume she’s still in there, yes.”

  “Thanks.” The little faery appeared hurt he was done talking to her so quickly. Devin quickly added an addendum. “I’m sorry, Tes, but this is urgent.”

  “Sure,” Tesmarie said. She flew back to her shelf. “Of course. Big people stuff, right?”

  “The biggest.”

  He knocked on the door to Jacaranda’s room and then waited.

  “Come in.”

  Over the past two weeks Jacaranda had worked to make the room more into her own. The curtains were blue instead of their original gray. Her growing collection of books was arranged upon a little shelf Tommy had brought her. Even the thick comforter on her bed was new, and of course, chosen by her. Jacaranda lay atop it, reading what appeared to be one of the penny pamphlets the newer presses cranked out by the dozens.

  “I’ve a weakness for those myself,” Devin said as he closed the door. “I used to take a few with me on lengthy trips prior to the black water arriving. Which is that one?”

  “A story of some woman whose lovers are killed by a jealous ghost.” She glanced at him and immediately sat up. “Devin, is something wrong?”

  He sighed and rubbed his temples.

  “Am I that obvious?”

  “Sometimes you’re easier to read than this book. Have a seat, and get whatever it is off your chest.”

  Devin sat at the edge of the bed. He found it hard to look at her. He didn’t want to see the potential hurt in her eyes.

  “I had a meeting with my Vikar,” he said. “According to him, he’s heard rumors that I am… romantically involved with one of Gerag’s soulless.”

  “Rumors,” she said, her entire body locking in place.

  “Yeah, rumors. Pretty damn accurate ones, I’d say, given the circumstances.”

  “What did you do?”

  He shook his head and chuckled.

  “Denied them, of course. I’m not going to reveal you to my superiors, Jac. It’s your life, and your decision, not mine.”

  Jacaranda put aside her book and slid across the sheets. He noticed her feet were bare, and her toenails painted a lovely lavender. Such a random detail, but it pulled his mind from the terrible ramifications of his news.

  “No one could possibly know I’m here with you,” she said. “The only person who did was Tye the White, and you killed him.”

  “Tye saw us together, yes,” Devin said. “But he might have told someone before I got to him.”

  Jacaranda hissed air through her teeth.

  “The only person he would have reason to tell was Gerag,” she said. “This confirms it. The bastard is alive out there, and he’s trying to strike at us from wherever he hides.”

  “If so, he picked a clever way to go about it. If we are discovered together, it could cost me my station as a Soulkeeper, perhaps even worse. I’ve lied to my Vikar and denied what is technically an illegal act. I just want to help, but I’m terrified everything I do is only going to make things worse.”

  Jacaranda placed her hand over his.

  “Devin?” she asked. “You don’t… regret me, do you?”

  “Regret you?”

  She suddenly had trouble looking his way.

  “Regret meeting me. Helping me. I dragged you into Gerag’s mess, and nearly killed you in the process. I’ve put your position in jeopardy. Now you’re lying to your Vikar, and…”

  Her voice trailed off. Was she waiting for his answer? Or did she just not have the ability to say what else she feared? Her face was tilted to the side, half-hidden by her short red hair. He took her chin in his fingertips and gently turned her gaze toward him. Her violet eyes met his. She was so beautiful. Devin wanted to give her the world, to promise her an eternity of love and safety, but that was beyond him. All he could offer was himself, and so he did.

  “Never,” he said. “Not once, and I never will.”

  He’d not kissed her since that moment Tye temporarily stole her life away. He’d almost been afraid to do so again, as if it might resummon the trauma and pain. He leaned closer, hesitant, waiting. She tilted her head, and that inch of movement toward him was enough. His lips met hers with a soft, gentle kiss. Her breath was a trembling whisper as she closed her eyes. He felt her hands grasp his shirt. It felt like an eternity, but at last he pulled away.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, “if that was too bold a—”

  Her lips banished his question. Her body pressed against his, and he closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy it. Her presence, her need, the hint of rose perfume he never knew she purchased and the softness of her hair running through his fingers, it was a pure joy he’d not experienced since the passing of his wife. Though he expected that kiss to be the last, she followed it up with another, and another, steadily melting his insides.

  He started to position them more comfortably but she hardened herself against any such movement. When he brushed her cheek with his thumb, she gently set it back at his side. When he leaned forward to kiss her more deeply, she pushed him to a distance. Every kiss was hers, begun when she leaned in, and ended when she needed to draw a breath through her flushed lips.

  She needs to be in charge, he realized. She needs to feel in control.

  After all she’d endured at Gerag’s hand, he could only sympathize and do his best to accommodate.

  After a minute a change passed through her. Her aggression increased. Her tongue flicked across his. Her mouth drew kisses as if he were a river and she dying of thirst. She shifted from her seat atop the bed so she could face him better. One hand held him close. The other traced lines across his neck, hooked underneath his shirt to brush across his chest and stomach, and then, after a hesitation, slipped into his trousers.

  Devin gasped in surprise. His breathing turned rapid as she took him into her hand and started slowly stroking up and down
. Her head shifted lower, her lips latching on to the side of his neck. Her teeth nipped at his skin, only to then immediately caress it with her tongue. Devin fought to contain a steady stream of moans. It was ridiculous to try to be quiet in his own home, but Tesmarie lingered just outside the door, and he didn’t want her to overhear.

  “I take it you like this?” Jacaranda whispered when she pulled back a moment. She emphasized the question with a flex of her fingers around his now fully erect shaft. He grinned at her like an idiot.

  “Maybe.”

  “Maybe?” She kissed his lips, then his cheek, then nibbled on his earlobe. “Maybe, he says?”

  Her motions were growing faster, matching the pounding of his blood in his veins. Her thumb began to slide across the very tip of his cock, which grew slicker with his excitement and all the more sensitive. A shudder ran through his abdomen, and his thoughts blurred from pleasure and anticipation.

  “Just like that,” he whispered. “Keep going. Just like that.”

  The difference was stark and immediate. Her thumb pulled away. Her arm continued its up and down motion, but the energy, the fiendish joy of it, was gone. She kissed his neck, but only a few more times, as if out of obligation. Devin put his arms around her, and as she leaned closer to him, he pulled her hand from his trousers.

  “It’s all right,” he said. “I’ll be fine. You don’t have to.”

  She was crying. Not much, and not loudly, but tears fell upon his shirt. After a moment she managed to offer an explanation.

  “Gerag, he… he’d say things to me when we… and that was… that was one of them. Just like that. Just like… fuck.”

  Shudders overwhelmed her upper body, and Devin clung to her and prayed for the Goddesses to shower Jacaranda with their compassion and mercy. He held her and prayed as his own blood cooled and his breathing returned to normal.

  “I need to know,” she said. “I need to know he’s dead. Until I know for sure, until I know, he’ll haunt me. He won’t stop haunting me. I’m so sorry, Devin. I thought I could, but I—”

  “Shhh,” he whispered. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

  She looked up at him with hair sticking to her face from her tears.

  “I don’t believe you.”

  He laughed and kissed her forehead.

  “Too bad,” he said. “We’ll figure this out together, all right? You and me against the world if we must.”

  “Thank you,” she said. Her head settled across his chest.

  The chaotic surge of emotions seemed to have drained most of her energy. He stayed there, lying together on the sheets and offering whatever comfort his closeness could bring her until sleep came and took her away. All the while, his thoughts turned dark, and Gerag’s smug, sickening face floated red in a sea of black.

  The Goddesses show you mercy if I find you, he thought. Because I sure as death won’t.

  CHAPTER 15

  There’s no way we’re getting through all that,” Dierk whispered to his nisse as they joined the outer ring of gawkers at the western gate to Low Dock. Tables, chairs, and crates were piled on one another to form a ten-foot barricade. Even if he could climb over it, the city guards stationed on the human side would prove troublesome. Even if he could order them to let him through (doubtful), the incident would certainly reach back to his father.

  Dierk should return home, Vaesalaum said. Displeasure caked its every word. Dierk should not interfere with events set in motion.

  “I can’t do that.” He flinched when a man nearby glanced at him curiously. Dierk wore the same clothes as his last trip to Low Dock, and he couldn’t afford to let anyone know he traveled inside the newly crowned Belvua. His father’s status in the city balanced on a knife point. Having a troublesome son meeting with the monsters could be all the difference between maintaining control and losing his head to riots.

  Vaesalaum reads all pages. Think the words if Dierk is fearful of unwanted ears hearing his spoken words.

  Dierk retreated away from the crowd, happy to melt into the flow of tired traffic on Tradeway. He knew he could converse with the nisse mentally, but he’d avoided doing so lately. It just felt… uncomfortable.

  “Adria’s in trouble,” he continued once certain no one would overhear. “I have to warn her.”

  This is a mistake.

  “Too bad. I’m still doing it. At least, I will once I find a way inside.”

  From what he’d heard, the northern entrance was similarly blocked, as well as the eastern side leading to the actual riverside docks. Belvua was completely isolated, no one going in, and no one going out.

  Logarius wants the Chainbreaker dead, Vaesalaum interrupted. Logarius oversteps bounds. We walk dangerous paths, Dierk. Tread carefully.

  Relief swept through him upon realizing the nisse was willing to help him.

  “Thank you,” he said. “So how do we get inside?”

  The creature sighed.

  Walls do not mean much to our kind. I shall show one way, if Dierk insists.

  Dierk climbed the ladder out of the cistern with his wet pant legs clinging to his skin. He’d been surprised by the scope and size of its construction when Vaesalaum led him to a seemingly forgotten entrance shed. That surprise paled in comparison to the shock that overcame him upon entering Belvua, for it was as if he had stepped into another world.

  “How have they changed so much in so short a time?” he asked in awe. “These buildings look like they’d have taken years to build.”

  They did. This part of Londheim always belonged to dragon-sired. Human eyes were blinded. Fooled with illusions. Foxkin are tearing down illusions now they have taken over.

  Low Dock had always seemed squat and small compared to the rest of Londheim, lacking the winding streets, towers, and interlocking architecture of other districts. No longer. Buildings rose for multiple stories on either side of him, and their frames curled toward the road in a mockery of gravity. Some bore colorful windows showcasing dozens of creatures for which Dierk had no name. Others were wrapped in red and purple vines that cared not for the coming winter. Dierk walked past one three-story building that more resembled an enormous tree than a house, for rough bark protected its sides.

  “All this, hidden by illusions?” Dierk whispered. “That’s—that’s not possible.”

  A long stretch of buildings to his left were composed solely of sticks and grass, yet they looked no less sturdy than the surrounding spires that were as tall as any other building in Londheim. Birds flocked around the highest spires, many of which bore open-air rooms.

  Has Dierk learned so little since my arrival? Human minds are frail. Human minds are brittle. So stiff. So unyielding. Sisters did you disservice limiting your faith and wonder.

  The mystery and wonder of Belvua threatened to overwhelm Dierk completely. So many varying styles, yet they came together beautifully. Little rivers of clear water flowed through grooves in the street no wider than his thumb, spiraling together and apart before branching off toward more vine-covered homes that grew out of the ground. One home looked built of crystal atop a walled pond, and a dozen little humanoid creatures of pure water danced and dove off its many edges. Those waterfalls eventually spilled out into more little grooves that cut through the stone and vanished into homes. Fresh drinking water, he realized. Right inside people’s homes.

  Belvua was a wonder of its time, Vaesalaum said. Humans built their stone homes in pale re-creations. Jealous. Petty. They could never succeed without help, which they refused.

  Despite all the changes, the roads still flowed in the same overall directions as they had before. Dierk forced his feet to move. As much as he wanted to explore every nook and cranny, he had come for a reason. He passed homes, shops, even ornate fences surrounding staircases leading down into what he presumed were underground constructions. The only mark against their beauty was the silence and emptiness. What he would give to have walked these streets when they were filled with magical creatu
res, or dragon-sired as Vaesalaum called them.

  “Why would the Sisters banish such wonders from us?” Dierk asked.

  There is no greater question in all the Cradle.

  The only time Dierk was stopped was at a narrow intersection. Two foxkin dressed in colorful silks stepped out from a doorway, each brandishing a long, skinny blade. Vaesalaum quickly intercepted their advance.

  Dierk is friend, the nisse said. Dierk is Ravencaller.

  Dierk tried not to gawk at the two, who turned his way, seemingly unconvinced by Vaesalaum’s vouch.

  “What are you doing here, boy?” one asked. “Your cult isn’t expected yet. And why do you have a nisse accompanying you?”

  Vaesalaum is teaching Dierk, it responded before he might answer. Dierk is son of Mayor. Much could be gained by a leader open to our plight.

  The foxkin exchanged glances.

  “Try to keep it quick,” the same one said. “We’ll leave you be, but I make no promises that others will feel the same way, especially Logarius.”

  “Of course,” Dierk said, hurrying on toward his destination. “Thank you, thank you both.”

  Compared to the wonders of its surroundings, Adria’s church was plain and small. Dierk spotted a lone person watching them from a rooftop nearby, a raven-faced man that he presumed to be an avenria like Logarius. The avenria did not intervene, so Dierk pretended not to have seen him. He climbed the steps and, after a moment to gather his nerves, knocked on the door. After a minute it opened, and out stepped the woman of his dreams.

  “Hurry inside,” she said. “I don’t know how long you’ll be safe.”

  Instead Dierk shook his head and refused.

  “I’m not some refugee seeking shelter,” he said. “I… um, I’ve come to talk to you, actually.”

  He could not view her face through her mask, but he did see the way her body tensed with caution. She slowly shut the church door behind her and stood upon the top step with her arms crossed.