Ravencaller

by David Dalglish

  “Then it is my time to leave. The Ravencallers are my prey, and none else.”

  Jacaranda felt relieved at the avenria’s departure. It was also unnerving being in her presence. There was an aura to her, as black as the wings that stretched from her back or the shadows that pooled beneath her feet.

  “Safe travels to you,” Devin said, and he bowed. Evelyn crossed her left arm over her chest and extended her right arm as she bowed in return.

  “I wish you both the best luck one might find on this dark night.”

  Her wings wrapped about her body, fully encasing her as she dashed through the nearby district wall and presumably out the other side.

  “What is it that makes me attract the most unusual of companions?” Devin asked as he watched her vanish.

  “There’s something safe about you,” Jacaranda said and then winked. “Or maybe you’re just the only person foolish enough to keep us around.”

  Devin laughed as he adjusted his damaged coat.

  “Goddesses, tonight has been the worst. Let’s hope it ends better than it began. Adria’s church is this way. Keep your eyes peeled and your ears open. I’d rather not die in an ambush this close to our goal.”

  It wasn’t signs of an ambush that they heard as they crossed the last stretch of road toward the church, but of sobbing. Jacaranda took point, with Devin trailing behind her with his pistol at the ready. The noise came from just past the broken front door of a dilapidated home. She elbowed it all the way open and stepped inside with daggers drawn.

  “Jac?” a stunned Tommy asked. The young man’s eyes were red from crying. “Devin? You—you’re here!”

  “That we are,” Devin said as he followed Jacaranda inside. “What’s going on?”

  Malik lay in Tommy’s lap, and for a moment she thought he was dead, his body was so still. It was only after a shimmer of pink bloomed and faded over his skin that she realized some sort of magic was involved.

  “Malik, he’s—he’s hurt,” Tommy said. “Tesmarie cast a spell to keep him alive, but we need Adria’s help, too, and I can’t get to her. The church is surrounded, and I have to carry him, and—and—and I don’t want to die getting him there because then what if he dies alone. I’d rather wait here so when he wakes, he can see me. I can say g-g…”

  He was blubbering too much for Devin to make any more sense out of his words. He just kept stroking Malik’s hair and sobbing. Devin knelt beside him and wrapped Tommy in a hug.

  “We’re here now,” he said. “It’s all right. We’ll get him to Adria, I promise. But if we’re to succeed, I need you to pull yourself together. Save Malik, cry later. Got that, Tommy?”

  His brother-in-law swallowed down his next few breaths as he gathered himself.

  “Yeah. I can. Just… ugh. I’m such a gross mess. Please give me a second.”

  Jacaranda scouted outside while Tommy cleaned his face using the sleeve of his robe. She didn’t need to go far to spot what the young man meant. Two gargoyles perched on opposite ends of the street, just before their current road intersected with the crossroad directly before the church. Three foxkin stood near the steps of the church. More might lurk outside her line of vision, but she didn’t want to risk getting closer until everyone was ready.

  “The Forgotten Children are definitely watching the church,” she said when she returned. “I believe we can break through if we act quickly.”

  “Are you ready, Tommy?” Devin asked.

  “I’m ready.” The young man stood, and he hoisted Malik into his arms and over his shoulder. “I can’t cast spells like this, though. Can you two handle it?”

  “You-mean-you-three!”

  Tesmarie zipped in through a window and pirouetted in midair. Though her voice was chipper, Jacaranda noticed the joy did not reach the faery’s eyes or smile.

  “Tes!” Tommy exclaimed. “Are you all right? Did you fight that other faery off?”

  “Of course I did,” she said. “I’m the best.”

  She might be the best, but Jacaranda could also see that she was hurt. Blood wet her arm and the side of her dress. It didn’t seem to bother her too much, and if she was determined to pretend she was fine, then Jacaranda wasn’t going to push the issue.

  “It’s good to see you all together and well,” Devin said, and he smiled at them. “Let’s not screw that up now, eh? Take lead, Jac. My pistol will keep you safe.”

  “My hero,” she said. “There’s two gargoyles watching from above. Take one out before they dive and I’ll handle the other.”

  “Are you sure?” Tesmarie asked. “I could talk with them first, maybe ask nicely if we can go past. We just want in the church. They might let us…”

  “Do you believe that?” Jacaranda asked. Tesmarie’s wings dipped and she pouted.

  “No,” she said. “Everyone wants to fight. I hate it.”

  “I’m no fan, either,” Devin said. “But I’m not going to let them hurt my sister and those in her care. If it makes you feel any better, Tes, I’ll wait to shoot until they attack. It’s the best I can do.”

  Jacaranda took point, with the rest following several dozen feet behind her. She pretended not to be aware of the two gargoyles keeping watch, though in truth she watched them from the corners of her eyes at all times. The sounds of screams echoed from afar. A retreating group of soldiers, perhaps? Flickers of orange and red painted the sky. It looked like fires burned in the two districts bordering Low Dock. Distractions? Or were they positioned to cut off any potential reinforcements?

  When she reached the end of the street, she stopped and put her back against the wall. The gargoyles were directly above her, and she fought to keep her eyes on the church. If she looked up, it’d give away the plan. The three foxkin standing at the church steps appeared to be the only other guards. So far, so good.

  The roar of Devin’s pistol was her only warning that the gargoyles attacked. Jacaranda pushed off the cold stone and dove. One gargoyle slammed the wall where she’d been, its thick claws tearing into the bricks like they were cloth. Another hit the ground and rolled, painting a trail of blue blood with its passage. Jacaranda came up to her feet only to find the uninjured gargoyle already upon her, its catlike face snarling and its muscular arms extended.

  “No-no-that-is-enough!”

  Tesmarie flashed across her vision, once, twice, perhaps more, her speed bordering on the impossible. Jacaranda processed a singular blue line that was the faery’s moonlight blade before the gargoyle’s body collided with hers. Its weight was tremendous despite its size, and she gasped as together they tumbled across the stones. Blood coated her chest, but it wasn’t hers. The gargoyle’s front claws were removed at the base, so when its paws should have ripped apart her rib cage, they only scraped already wounded and bleeding digits.

  Jacaranda tucked her legs to her stomach and then kicked the gargoyle off her. It went down limping, and it whimpered like an injured mountain cat. Its wings spread wide. The gargoyle fled, a trickle of blood falling from it like a pitiful rain.

  “Thanks,” Jacaranda said as she rose to her feet. It seemed she would find no respite. The three foxkin, alerted to the battle by the sound of pistol fire, sprinted toward her with their long blades drawn.

  “I—I won’t fight them,” Tesmarie said, her fingers pressing together as a rainbow of colors circled underneath her palms, coalescing into an orb. “You have to do it.”

  The faery pushed the orb directly into Jacaranda’s forehead. She felt a sense of vertigo, followed by a sudden slowing of the world. When she turned to face the foxkin, it felt as if her body was sluggish compared to the commands given by her mind. Somehow she was seeing and thinking faster, though her physical self moved no faster than before.

  Jacaranda grit her teeth and white-knuckled her grip on her daggers. Already she felt the magic starting to fade; whatever spell Tesmarie cast seemed to have little permanency. She couldn’t waste it. Her legs pumped, sending her into a sprint, and she lowered
her body and crossed her arms over her chest. Upon meeting the foxkins’ charge, she exploded in a whirlwind of steel, her every nerve aflame and her heart pounding with the thrill of battle. Her feet danced beneath her, twisting her, allowing her to bow below a slash, stab one foxkin in the belly, and then rise up, her other hand parrying aside a thrust so she might counter. Her steel punched through the foxkin’s throat. The magic enveloping her allowed her ample time to witness the blood begin to pour from the torn trachea.

  Once past them, Jacaranda dug in her heels, her blades up to block an attack that never came. The final foxkin lurched aside, her jaw hanging from a single hinge as Devin’s shot tore through the back of her head. The gruesome image haunted Jacaranda as she beckoned the others to follow.

  She reached the church door first, and unsurprisingly found it locked. She beat on it to alert whoever might be inside. The last of the faery’s magic faded from her, leaving her with a pounding headache. Just the act of hitting the door with her fist made her wince.

  “It’s Jacaranda,” she shouted, earning an immediate, muffled response from Adria on the other side.

  “Prove it.”

  The foxkin, she realized. They could disguise themselves. How could she prove her own identity to Adria?

  “Devin is an asshole,” she shouted. “But I love him anyway.”

  The door immediately unlocked and swung open.

  “Come on in,” Adria said. Jacaranda entered first, the others at her heels. The hall was dimly lit by candlelight, and the people inside eyed them warily. Jacaranda wondered what they might think of their motley little crew come to save them. Disappointed, she figured.

  “I heard that,” Devin said as he holstered his pistol.

  “Which part?”

  “The ‘love him’ part.” He grinned despite his exhaustion. “So is that true?”

  Jacaranda planted a kiss on his cheek.

  “Asshole.” She smiled despite the pain in her back and the hitch in her side. Tommy carried Malik to a corner, Tesmarie hovering protectively overhead. Devin turned his attention to Adria, who looked doubly exhausted from the stress of the past week.

  “Sorry, sis,” he said. “I’m afraid we’re the grand sum of your rescue forces.”

  “We’ll make do.” She wrapped him in a warm embrace. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  Jacaranda peeked out the door. Already more foxkin had replaced the ones they’d killed. She saw the first arrival of an avenria, his dark wings enveloping his body as he landed on a nearby roof. Three gargoyles joined him, their pale eyes glowing in the moonlight. Jacaranda tightened her grip on her daggers and muttered to herself as she shut the door.

  “Let’s hope by the night’s end we can say the same.”

  CHAPTER 21

  Though outside was chaos and death, Adria felt pride that inside her church was calm and quiet. Candles burned low, and survivors huddled together, comforting one another and praying to the Sisters for mercy. Sena drifted among the groups, her presence invaluable in keeping hearts calm. Jacaranda and her brother kept watch at the front door, for which she was thankful. It allowed her to dedicate her attention to Tommy and his injured… actually, she wasn’t sure what Malik was to her brother-in-law. Friend? Mentor? Lover?

  “Can’t you end the spell early?” Tommy asked the little faery. The four of them were tucked into the far corner of the church. A lone candle burned in the candelabra above, their only light. Malik lay on his back, his limbs weirdly frozen and his entire body occasionally shimmering a faint pink. Tommy sat cradling Malik’s head in his lap, while Tesmarie perched atop Malik’s knee, carefully eyeing the time-locked wound in the Wise’s side.

  “I cast the spell, and then it goes until it’s done,” Tesmarie said. “Sorry. It’s only a few more minutes.”

  Adria glanced across the church to Devin and Jacaranda in the doorway. She prayed the Sisters gave them those minutes. So far the forces surrounding the church had not attacked. Janus’s protection had saved her once, but she had a feeling he would not do so again.

  “Are you injured?” she asked upon noticing Tesmarie held her arm in a peculiar way. Tesmarie pulled her hand away to reveal a nasty gash along her bicep.

  “Just a scratch, really,” the faery said.

  “Then it shall be easy for me to heal,” Adria said. “Please, sit upon my palms so I may pray.”

  Tesmarie’s wings fluttered softly as she touched her bare feet into the center of Adria’s palm. The words of the 36th Devotion flowed effortlessly off Adria’s tongue. Soft, pleasant light washed over the wound, and then the faery’s onyx skin was perfectly smooth as always. Tesmarie hovered to Adria’s face, placed a kind kiss upon her cheek, and then returned to her perch atop Malik’s knee.

  “Hey, Tes,” Tommy said. He coughed as if something awkward was stuck in his throat. “That faery who attacked you… did you know him? He seemed to know you.”

  Tesmarie rested her head on her hands and cast her eyes downward.

  “Yes. I know him. His name is Gan, and he is… was my betrothed.”

  Adria cast a look Tommy’s way. Such a sensitive topic didn’t deserve prying, but Tommy wasn’t often keen to such matters. Her brother-in-law caught her stare, and his next question died on his tongue.

  “Sorry,” he said instead.

  “No, it’s fine.” Tesmarie sniffled. “I didn’t care for him, not really. He’s why I was banished from my home. Mostly why, I should say. My mother didn’t exactly help.”

  Little diamond tears started to swell within the faery’s eyes.

  “You need not tell this story now,” Adria said softly. “We are all heavy with burdens.”

  “I said it’s fine,” Tesmarie huffed. “Stupid home, stupid Gan, stupid—stupid everyone. I was betrothed to Gan but not by choice. My mother is Matriarch, and she set up the whole arrangement. I didn’t love him. I loved Elebell.” She paused to wipe the tears away. “A neighbor caught us together and raised a stink. We were both brought before my mother, and she lectured about disgracing our family name and my betrothed’s honor and other stuff I think is hogsnot. She gave us a choice—renounce our relationship, or be banished.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tommy said. “Being banished by your mother had to have been awful.”

  Tesmarie shook her head.

  “No. That part I could handle. I flew before the whole town and said I didn’t love Gan, I loved Elebell, and not even exile would change my mind. But then Elebell, she—she refused. Being banished wasn’t the worst, Tommy. Being banished alone was.”

  Adria’s heart went out to the little faery. She’d been ready to stand against the world by the strength of her love, only to find that love pulled away, and her feet falling through the earth. No wonder she’d followed Devin from the Oakblack Woods to Londheim.

  Tommy lowered a hand toward her, and Tesmarie cupped two of his fingers in an embrace. Flecks of diamond scattered across his pink skin.

  “I know there’s a lot of fighting and things we don’t understand,” she said. “But you and Devin and Jac, you’ve all shown me more kindness than I deserve. I don’t care if Gan thinks I’m a traitor. I’m going to help you, no matter what!”

  The occasional shade of pink that washed over Malik’s skin suddenly brightened to a vibrant red. Tesmarie hopped off Malik’s knee and onto Tommy’s shoulder. The rigidity left Malik’s limbs, and a sudden gasp of pain marked time’s renewed grip upon his body.

  “Hurry, Adria,” the faery said. “He doesn’t have long!”

  “What… where…?” Malik gasped. His eyes struggled to focus, and she could hear groggy delirium overtaking his voice as he tried to sit up.

  “Lie still,” Adria said, forcibly pushing him onto his back. “I need only pray.”

  “It’s all right,” Tommy said, grabbing Malik’s hand. “I’m here, right here. Just relax, and Adria here will fix you up.”

  Adria slipped her hands through the torn fabric and into his blood a
nd ruptured flesh. She closed her eyes. Prayer floated across her tongue. Poor Tesmarie might have lost someone close to her, but under no circumstances would she allow the same to happen to Tommy. When her hands pulled away, the flesh was clean. Not even the spilled blood remained.

  “Oh, thank the heavens,” Tommy exclaimed. A long breath eased out of him as if he’d held it for hours. Tears crashed down his cheeks, his speech growing more and more indecipherable with his every word. “I thought I lost you, Malik. I thought you were gone, and if you did, I don’t, I don’t know what…”

  Malik grabbed Tommy by the shoulders and pulled him close. Their lips brushed for but a moment, then longer as tears slipped down Malik’s face as well. Tesmarie fluttered over to Adria’s shoulder as she stood.

  “Give them their moment,” she whispered in agreement to the faery. Tommy knelt in Malik’s embrace, releasing his every horrible imagined fear that he’d clung to over the past hour. Malik was calmly whispering something to him that she could not hear, but her spirit-blessed eyes could see the warm, soothing emotions rolling off Malik’s soul.

  Adria crossed the church, giving the two of them space, and she did not like the look Devin gave her as they approached. Sena had joined them, and her calm façade momentarily flickered with nervousness.

  “Have matters worsened?” Adria asked, ensuring her voice wasn’t loud enough for the huddled refugees to hear.

  “Is it possible for things to be worse than they are now?” Sena asked.

  “Don’t tempt the Sisters,” Devin said. The church doors were open a crack, and his eyes remained fixed on the outside. “Shit. You just had to say it, didn’t you, Faithkeeper?”

  “Why?” Adria asked. “What’s wrong?”

  Devin stepped aside so the other two might see.

  “Their leader is here,” he said. “Which means we’ve run out of time.”

  Adria surveyed the gathered forces, at least those that were visible. Three of the dark-winged creatures Devin had called “avenria” stood at the forefront of the varied and numerous forces. She saw foxkin wielding knives, tall lapinkin brandishing strange hooked spears, and even human Ravencallers scattered among the mix. Gargoyles hungrily perched on the nearby rooftops. Giant owls circled in the skies above.