Summer of Crows

by Hans Cummings

  Tasha, hands on her hips, faced the crow. “Why are you following me?”

  The bird fluttered away. When it failed to return, she resumed her hike. By the time the sun reached the midpoint to its zenith, the terrain grew rockier and sloped noticeably upward. Tasha adjusted her course to head north, by her reckoning. She should have encountered the river by now, unless she’d awakened on the eastern bank. In the distance, she heard the rapid tapping of a woodpecker searching for grubs in a nearby tree.

  A snapping branch and the rustle of underbrush alerted her to a frightened deer bounding away. Breathing deeply, Tasha took in the sounds of the forest around her. The forest after a heavy rain smelled different, a mix of pine and earth combined with an unpleasant undercurrent of natural dank and decay. Again, she recalled the farm her parents owned.

  Tasha chuckled. The farm, and her parents, may as well have been on the other side of the world, so far removed were they from her. Her existence there seemed a lifetime ago. In some respects, it was. As a young woman, she left to attend the Arcane University, and, even after Lorelei’s death, she had never returned. For all Tasha knew, Cedar Ridge, the village near her parents’ farm, no longer existed.

  Resigning herself to foraging, Tasha munched on the leaves of familiar plants as she traveled, but they did little to stave off her growing hunger. By the time she emerged from the forest and recognized Curton before her, her stomach, knotted and churning, demanded to be fed.

  The Copper Run lay between her and Miners’ Gate, with no bridges to allow crossing save for those behind the city walls. Tasha resigned herself to a long hike around the eastern side to Mudders’ Gate. Viewing the town from the hills, Tasha noticed the river had overflowed its banks, but she was still too far away from Curton to see any damage.

  She examined her boots, muddy and misshapen from their extended stay in the river, before discarding them. Hearing the flutter of wings behind her, Tasha turned to see a crow alight on one of her boots. Pecking at one of the laces, it looked up at her and then pecked at it again.

  Kneeling, Tasha reached for her discarded footwear. The crow perched on the other boot as she loosened the string, finally pulling it free. She offered it toward the crow. It snatched it up in its black beak before flying away.

  Once it soared out of sight, Tasha resumed her trek to Curton. Traveling to Mudders’ Gate took most of the rest of the day. She squinted against the sun, low in the western sky.

  To her dismay, the gate stood closed as she approached, despite the lingering light of the late-afternoon sun. She heard members of the city watch chatting from behind the massive oaken doors, which lay to rest her concerns about an imminent threat to the city. Tasha banged a fist against the doors until a guard peeked over the wall.

  “Hey there, what’s this ruckus about?”

  “It’s me, Tasha. The herbalist.” She gestured at the giant doors. “Why is the gate closed this early?”

  “Captain Aveline’s orders. We’re keeping things locked up until we get a handle on the damage caused by the flood.” Ducking behind the wall, the guard called down to comrades at street level. “Here, it’s the herbalist. Let her in!”

  Heavy metal latches released, and wood groaned in protest as one of the gate doors swung open just enough to admit Tasha entry. Puddles of mud covered the road, squishing between her toes. She took deliberate steps to avoid falling

  “Your shop’s over by Drakton, right?” A guard offered her a hand as one of her feet slid out from under her.

  Tasha steadied herself with his help. “Across the river from Danica’s Den, actually.”

  The raucous customers of Curton’s main gambling house rarely intruded upon Tasha’s meditations, even when games played long into the night.

  “Things were bad down by the river. Hope your shop’s all right.”

  Tasha’s stomach knotted at the thought of losing her home. “Me too.”

  Chapter 11

  “All right, pull yourself together.” Aveline rolled out of bed, barely getting her feet under her before hitting the floor. Her tongue felt fuzz covered, and her head pounded. An empty mead bottle rolled away as she shuffled toward the wardrobe.

  Aveline looked toward the heavens. “I got myself drunk for you, Tasha.”

  The room spun when she tilted her head, and she clutched at a chair to keep her balance. Closing her eyes, she waited for the spinning to stop. While remaining silent, Aveline noticed rain no longer pelted her roof.

  With deliberate motions, she changed into clean clothes and then donned her armor. She secured her mace on her belt, threw her shield over her shoulder, and opened the door. Aveline heard the sounds of the city beyond nearby buildings. After locking the door to her home, she made her way through the alleys and backstreets until she reached Miners’ Gate.

  The city watch sergeant in charge saluted as she approached. “Nothing to report, Lady Aveline. No trouble.”

  “Cleanup going all right?” She shielded her eyes from the harsh sunlight streaming from above, the bane of hangovers. “What about those men I ordered to search up and down the river?”

  “They left at first light. Haven’t heard anything yet.” He waved at a pair of robed draks proceeding through the gate. “Haven’t heard anything from Mudders’ Gate for a while, though. Lieutenant Valon was by earlier. He said he was going to check things there.”

  “Very well, Sergeant. Thank you.” Aveline stepped aside to let a horse and cart through. Its wheels gouged deep ruts in the mud as the driver attempted to guide it in a straight line. She followed the cart on its course through the center of town, straddling one of the ruts as she stepped.

  Despite the mud and storm damage, farmers and craftsfolk set up their stalls in Curton’s market square, churning up more muck than usual. Everyone still has to eat, I suppose.

  By the time Aveline crossed to the far side, mud coated her legs up to her knees. She paused at the steps leading into Cybele’s Church to knock dried clay off her boots. Mother Anya watched from the open doors of her church.

  “The rain is a gift and a curse, is it not?” The old woman nodded to a farmer who bowed his head as he passed.

  “Why do all things good for life make such a mess?” Aveline leaned against the stoop as she pried a hardening ball of mud from under her greaves.

  Smiling, Anya raised her hands as she glanced skyward. “Ah, child. That is a question for the Keeper of Mysteries.” Lowering her hands, she laughed. “Truth be told, I could use a bit less mess myself.”

  Satisfied she’d cleaned the worst of the muck from her boots, Aveline bowed her head to the matriarchal cleric. “I’m off to check on the missing girl.”

  “May today bring good news of Innya and the others.” Mother Anya placed her hand on her chest. “Blessings of Cybele be with you, Lady Aveline.”

  Despite the old woman’s blessing, Aveline held out little hope. She continued on her way, following the road through Hillside toward Mudders’ Gate. Behind the Church of Cybele stood Hon’s Hearth, temple of the god of pacts. A small crowd gathered around Hearth Master Marko as he pontificated the virtues of opening one’s home to the unfortunate during times of need such as this. Aveline observed long enough to ensure no pickpockets worked the crowd, then left the hearth master to his preaching.

  At Mudders’ Gate, several guards inspected a covered wagon seeking entry into the city. Aveline allowed them to work unfettered. Instead, she sought out Lieutenant Valon. The officer leaned against the gatehouse, watching his subordinates perform their inspection. Bags under his eyes revealed the lack of sleep from which they’d all suffered since the storm rolled through.

  “Anything to report?” Aveline returned his salute as she approached.

  “The patrols out searching for that girl returned. They had a rough time out there during the storm. I wasn’t sure where you’d be, so I told them to meet you at the jail.” Valon tensed as the wagon driver argued with the guard, but he relaxed again when both
laughed.

  That the guards seemed to have returned without any of the missing people did nothing to alleviate Aveline’s anxiety. “Very well. I’ll head that way now. Are they all back?”

  “They are. They’ll probably be waiting for you now.” Pushing himself away from the wall, he clapped his hands as a group of farmers approached carrying baskets of produce. “Here, let these folks by.”

  Aveline left Valon to his duties, making her way to the market. She purchased a wheel of cheese, a rope of cured sausages, and a loaf of bread for the jail’s larder. A couple of brightly colored blouses sold by a merchant she didn’t recognize caught her eye. Aveline made a mental note to return and peruse his wares before the market closed.

  The spartan stone construction of the jail proved a boon during storms like the one Curton experienced. Apart from debris clustered around the walls, it appeared much as it had prior to the storm. Sweeping twigs and leaves away from the door of the adjacent home, the midwife, Petra, nodded in greeting to Aveline.

  “Do you need help with that?”

  Aveline regarded the bundles of provisions in her arms. “If you could get the door for me, I would greatly appreciate it.”

  “Of course, Lady Aveline.” Petra strode toward her.

  “Cybele bless you, Petra.”

  “I’ll be needing that.” The midwife bowed her head. “Three babies on the way, any day now.”

  “Not the same mother, I hope.”

  Petra laughed. “Oh, that’d be a sight. No, no. One to Ilsa and Nicolae up in Old Town, another to Elena and Andrei at Black Goat Farm, and the last to Adela and Mihai at Fairstone Mill. Do you know them?”

  Aveline shook her head. “No. The mill? Is that the one downriver or upriver?”

  “Down.”

  “I wish them all Dolios’s luck.” Offering a smile of thanks to the midwife, Aveline turned to close the door with her foot.

  “Aveline, there you are!”

  Her heart skipped a beat when she heard Tasha’s voice. The bundles she carried fell from her arms upon seeing her friend rise from the chair behind the desk.

  “You’re alive!” Aveline leapt over a cheese wheel and hugged the sorceress, spinning her as she laughed.

  “All right, all right.” Giggling, Tasha patted Aveline’s shoulders until she set the sorceress down. Tasha’s hair, knotted and tangled with twigs, hung in disarray, and her robes cracked where dried mud stiffened the cloth. “Should I not be?”

  “I ran into Vasco last night. He said you were swept away in the river.” Aveline retrieved the supplies she had dropped. “The storms didn’t give me much reason to hope.”

  Taking the cheese and bread from Aveline, Tasha accompanied her to the larder. “No, I suppose not.”

  “Still, you look better than I expected for someone washed downstream during a storm. It’s a wonder the current didn’t carry you here.” After prying open the larder door, Aveline stocked the shelves. When she finished, she picked up one of the older sausages and tore into it. “Hungry?”

  Nodding, the sorceress sliced a piece of cheese. Tears welled in her eyes as she chewed. “It’s all gone, Aveline.”

  “Your shop?” Aveline rubbed her friend’s arm. “I saw. Don’t worry. I’ll help you get it sorted.”

  “Everything in there is ruined. It’ll be like starting over.” Tasha leaned against the shelf. “The water got everywhere. My reagents. My clothes. My bed. Everything stinks of mold, my door is completely shattered, and there are already rats infesting the place.”

  Aveline cleared her throat, studying a knot in the shelf. “Yeah, I broke the door. Sorry about that.”

  “You did?”

  The watch captain nodded. “Some draks needed medicine, and there wasn’t another way in. We scavenged what we could; they promised to settle up with you when you returned. That was before I spoke to Vasco.”

  Tasha wiped her eyes. “Which draks?”

  “Ashenscale clan. Zodok?”

  “Zadok.” Tasha nodded. “They’re honest. They’ll pay if they can find me.”

  Aveline pulled her friend into a hug. “You can stay with me for as long as you need. It’ll be cramped, but we can make do. Or, if you prefer, stay here. We can fix up one of the back cells.”

  “Thanks.”

  Stomping accompanied by swearing in the front room of the jail drew their attention. Aveline gestured for Tasha to follow her. “That’ll be the patrols returning from the search. Late, as usual.”

  * * *

  Aveline and Tasha found a dozen constables stowing their weapons and armor in racks around the room. They snapped to attention upon noticing Aveline’s presence. After she gestured for them to proceed, one of the men, a grizzled fellow with sandy-brown hair and eyes narrowed from a lifetime of squinting at the sun, stepped forward.

  “What news, Lieutenant?”

  The man shook his head. “We found tracks in a field east of Mudders’ Gate. We followed them as far as we could”—he gestured upward—“but the sky opened up. After that…”

  “No use?” Crossing her arms, Aveline sat on the edge of her desk.

  “Not after that storm. They looked to be heading toward the old copper mines.”

  Long since depleted, so little of value remained in the mines that no one ventured there. Tasha expected if one went exploring, they’d find nothing but vermin.

  Several guards ducked into the larder. A few minutes later, they returned with a tray filled with meat, bread, and cheese. The grizzled scout selected a sausage before continuing. Aveline motioned for them to offer the tray to Tasha. The sorceress tore off a hunk of bread to accompany the cheese she held.

  “I had the lads here”—the scout, Jolen, glanced over his shoulder—“hunker down as best they could, and I headed toward the mines alone.” He winked. “Move faster alone, you see. Quieter too.”

  Jolen breathed deeply. “There’s something there now, Lady Aveline. I couldn’t make it out in the dark, but I saw fires and folks moving about. There was a sinister feeling in the air… and it wasn’t from the storm, if you take my meaning. Seemed too dangerous to move closer during the downpour, so I went back to our camp. When the weather cleared a bit, we headed back here.”

  “Very well.” Aveline clapped her hands to gain everyone’s attention. “Get yourselves cleaned up. Go home. Rest. Hopefully, the storm spared your homes. Report for duty when you’re able. I’ll handle the search from here.”

  The guards saluted, heading off one by one as they finished eating. Aveline paced the room, chewing her lip.

  Tasha regarded her friend. “It could just be draks.”

  “Draks.” Nodding, Aveline raised her eyebrows. “Or oroqs. Maybe even worse.”

  Running her finger through her hair in a futile attempt to work out a knot, Tasha frowned. “Assuming that is where the girl was taken, and perhaps the rest of the missing folk, what would oroqs want with them?”

  “Food? Pleasure?” Aveline opened the storm shutters. “I’m just speculating. Perhaps that oroq I had here with her Watchman friend might provide some insight.”

  Tasha glanced at her mud-infused clothes. “I think I’ll try to find something clean to wear.”

  “Oh, wait.” Aveline withdrew a key from her pouch. She tossed it to Tasha. “Let yourself into my place when you’ve finished. By the way, Vasco has your pack of herbs. I don’t remember where he’s staying.”

  “If he’s even still in town.” Tasha brushed several strands of hair from her face. “Well, there aren’t that many inns. If he’s here, I’ll find him, or someone who knows where he is. He was staying at the Drunken Horse the other night, right?”

  “I think so. He also keeps his horse at the livery by Miners’ Gate.”

  “Good to know, thank you.” Leaving her friend to her work, Tasha exited the jail.

  As she proceeded down the street, a flutter of motion in the periphery of her vision drew her attention. A crow flew from rooftop to rooftop, sha
dowing her steps. Squinting at it, Tasha stopped.

  The crow stared back.

  Chapter 12

  After eating her fill from the larder, Aveline noted the returning scouts had almost emptied the food stores of the jail. Sighing, she resigned herself to purchasing more provisions while she scoured the inns and taverns for the oroq woman traveling with the Watchman, Aerik.

  When her searches at Hon’s Hearth, the Bristled Boar, and the Drunken Horse proved fruitless, Aveline decided to check Danica’s Den. The gambling house remained her only hope of finding the pair, assuming they had not yet left town to seek their fortunes elsewhere.

  With the sun high in the sky, most of Danica’s clientele would be away earning coin at their jobs. Still, Aveline knew from experience that a few dedicated gamblers would have games running. If she found no one else, the game masters would know something.

  Danica, herself a stout dwarf woman, held the door open for Aveline. A smoky haze covered the room.

  “Can I help you with something, Lady Aveline?” The matron raised her chin to look down her nose at the watch captain, no small feat for one who only stood as tall as Aveline’s stomach.

  “I’m looking for someone, a…”

  “Edric again?” One of Danica’s employees, the dwarf worked to pay off gambling debt. When Edric’s indentured servitude began, he spent almost as much time in the jail as he had at work. “He’s kept his nose clean. He might be sweet on me after all this time.”

  Aveline held up her hand. “Not Edric. A Watchman and an oroq woman. Aerik Devilhead… or something like that. I don’t remember her name, but she had eyes like scorching embers and a tattoo on her head.”

  “Therkla Fire-Eyes and Aerik Devilhand.” Sniffing, Danica rolled a coin over her knuckles. “I know them well. What have they done this time?”

  “I just want to talk to them.” Squinting, Aveline gazed at the table of gamblers seated at the far side of the room. The fog obscured their identities, but none appeared to be oroqs.

  “Then it’s unfortunate I seem to be having memory problems.” Danica scratched the scruff growing in her cheeks, holding out her other hand expectantly.