Tasha nodded. “Yes.”
“Stick around, explain the situation to the draks, then meet up with me in Curton. I bet you’ll pass us.” Aveline snorted. “I’d kind of like to see how that hut actually moves.”
“I could do that. It’ll give me some time to practice scrying before Koloman catches up with us again.”
“Good.” Aveline pulled Tasha into a hug. “I’m heading down into the mine. Do your thing, and if I don’t see you again today, we’ll catch up in town.”
“All right.” Tasha watched her friend leave.
Aveline called to her before disappearing into the darkness, “And don’t go through any strange portals!”
Chapter 36
The sun blazed high in Calliome’s sky by the time Aveline and the workers finally broke camp and started their trek back to Curton. The stonemasons had everything they needed for the short term, since they were staying behind to construct the monument and permanent grave markers. Aveline trusted they could work around the draks, should they arrive before the masons finished. She promised them she would arrange a regular flow of supplies once she returned to town.
Aveline rode with Valon in a cart near the front of the procession, but as the wagon bounced over every rock and divot, she soon regretted not choosing to walk. When they finally stopped for the night, she ached. Even an extra mug of muddy ale did little to dull the pain. Despite her discomfort, she slept soundly. The next day, the workers made an early start. Fair weather held all morning, and by midday, the entrance to Curton once again came into view.
Aveline split from the group as soon as they passed through the gate and rushed to her home. She didn’t bother closing her door behind her before rummaging through her wardrobe for a change of clothes. Gathering them into a bundle, she then went into Old Town, making her way to the riverside bathhouse.
By the time she finished bathing, her clothes were returned to her freshly laundered, although still damp. She took them home, donned her armor and city watch tabard, and returned to the streets of her town to head to the citadel.
Even though she’d been gone barely ten days, the hard work folks put toward cleaning up from the flood made Curton appear, if not new, at least, not like it had just suffered a catastrophe. Gone were the groups of people cleaning debris and repairing structures. In their place, folk bustled, going about their regular business.
As she passed through the market, she heard a familiar voice hawking Imrus’s fine Curtonian copper pots. Ra-Jareez’s embellishments of Imrus’s skilled work gave one the impression he sold the handiwork of Adranus himself. She took a circuitous route down a different row as to not become distracted by the faelix’s salesmanship.
“Hey, Lady Captain!” The gruff, bellowing oroq voice felled Aveline’s good mood.
Gritting her teeth, Aveline turned. Therkla jogged toward her, a hand on the hilt of her sword. Aveline waited until the oroq woman reached her, then extended her hand.
“Good to see you again.”
Narrowing her eyes, the oroq stared at the outstretched hand as if it were a viper poised to strike. “You owe me money.”
“So I do. Your friend, Aerik, too. Is he around?”
“He’s at Danica’s Den.”
Aveline gestured for Therkla to accompany her before resuming her route. “I trust I can give you his payment as well and you’ll see that he gets it?”
“Of course.”
“I’m headed to the citadel now. Come with me, and I’ll get your money.” Aveline was not averse to paying Therkla her promised reward. However, part of her had hoped the oroq woman would consider her labor a gift to the townsfolk of Curton, chiefly because they didn’t actually save anyone.
“I was beginning to think you weren’t ever coming back. Aerik and I would have left town by now were we not waiting on our money.”
Aveline stifled her initial reply. “Your dedication is admirable.”
“Think what you will. Mercenaries get paid.” Therkla hawked a gob of spittle into a nearby puddle. “Besides, we heard of an expedition down south we want to join. This money will help us get there.”
“What expedition would that be?” The more Therkla spoke, the more resentful Aveline grew that the woman remained so adamant about being paid. “A quest for snow?”
If Therkla detected Aveline’s contempt, she made no sign of it. “I’ve been hearing of my folk heading west, looking for Ankor. Whole strongholds are emptying out. I want to try to catch one of them before summer ends.”
Aveline had heard stories about the riches of Ankor—the ancestral home of the oroqs, lost since The Sundering—reward to whoever proved brave enough to travel across the Northern Watch through to the southern tip of the Western Wastes. Every story told of different horrors—feral dragons, demons, hordes of boggins descending upon unwary travelers.
The citadel loomed before them. Seizing Aveline’s arm, Therkla stopped the knight-captain from opening the door. “You’ll understand if I don’t want to see the inside of your jail again. I’ll just wait here for you, if it’s all the same.”
“I don’t keep the money inside a jail cell, but whatever suits your fancy. I’ll be right back.” Aveline trudged up the steps, then entered the building. A strongbox in a vault past the armory contained the city watch’s funds. She and Lieutenant Valon carried the only keys. She greeted the constables as she passed, retrieved the promised payment, and met Therkla at the bottom of the steps by the front door.
She counted out the coins into Therkla’s hand. “No one who goes looking for Ankor has ever returned, you know.”
“So I hear.” Gazing at Aveline, Therkla licked one of her tusks. “This might be the last time you see me. Want to have a wild night? You’ll never forget it.”
“I don’t doubt it, but I’ll pass.”
“Your loss.” Grinning, Therkla shoved the money into her belt pouch. “The stories are all boggin spit anyway. If no one ever comes back, where do the stories come from?”
“You make a good point.”
“Besides, the wastes aren’t the end of civilization. There’s good farmland between the western mountains and the ocean, I hear. Skogn is even further west than Ankor is supposed to be, and the Watchfolk there do fine.” Therkla offered her hand to Aveline.
The knight-captain clasped the oroq’s hand. “Safe journeys. I hope you find what you’re looking for out there.”
“Fortune and glory, Lady Knight. Fortune and glory.”
* * *
By the time Tasha met the draks and explained the situation with the chaos rift, the caravan of gravediggers had already begun its journey back to Curton. Once underway, Tasha found not overtaking them a difficult challenge. To keep from passing them and arriving in town a full day ahead of Aveline, she veered south into the more difficult terrain of the higher foothills.
Despite the dense foliage, the hut seemed to bob and weave of its own accord, fitting through spaces Tasha judged too narrow. She needed only to focus on where she wanted to go, and the hut selected its own path. Yet, despite the bumpy topography, the interior of the hut remained still.
By dusk, Tasha found a clearing between Miners’ Gate and the river. Although Aveline’s caravan would not arrive until sometime the next day, she settled in for the night despite wanting desperately a bath. She considered entering the sylvan glade, but Aveline’s warning echoed in her thoughts. Tasha’s own trepidation about being able to return reinforced her decision to patronize the public baths in Old Town in the morning.
When dawn came, she checked on Aveline’s progress with Revan, then sent Korbin to check on Lord Mayor Koloman. She caught the caravan as they were breaking their fast, but all else seemed in order. Koloman’s estate seemed quiet, as well.
After leaving the hut, she headed toward town, joining the road just out of sight of Miners’ Gate. Even early in the morning, the town seemed abuzz with gossip, much of it centering around a woman claiming to be the Crow Queen. Tasha, at
tempting to appear uninterested, focused on her destination.
After a refreshing visit to the baths, she stopped at the bakery for a sweet roll, then headed for the market. She crossed the river only to find all the stalls closed. Tasha frowned in dismay, cursing herself for losing track of which days were market days. She’d hoped to visit Imrus’s stall to check on Raj and his sister. Not knowing the location of Imrus’s workshop, Tasha headed to Danica’s Den to check on Yun.
Proceeding along River Road, she saw her old home and apothecary across the river. Living there had been lonely when she first arrived in Curton over a decade ago, but she’d made do. Within a year, it truly felt like home. She met Aveline about the same time. From the side of the road, Tasha stared at her house, brushing away hair the light breeze blew across her face.
So much has changed in such a short time. I know more now than I did then. Yet, I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing. She became aware of someone speaking to her.
“I say, you’re the apothecary, Tasha, yes?”
“Yes, yes, I am.” Tasha turned to regard the person who had spoken. An older, taller man, with thinning grey hair, gazed upon her. She recognized him as a member of the town council, but she did not recall his name.
“I thought your shop was on the other side of the river.”
“It is.” Tasha pointed. “Just there. Everything was ruined in the flood.”
“Yes, I noticed you’ve been closed. I’ve been trying to find you.” Holding up a gnarled hand, he flexed it. “My joints have been aching something awful, and I was hoping you had a remedy.”
He glanced across the river, then at her. “I suppose if it’s all ruined, though, I’m out of luck.”
Tasha cupped his hand in hers, noticing his extremity felt unusually warm. “Not necessarily, Councilor. I found a new place, and I’ve restocked. It’s just outside Miners’ Gate, in a clearing between the gate and the Copper Run.”
Furrowing his brow, he blinked. “In the forest?”
“Yes, but it’s not far, just a few minutes from the gate.” She patted his hand. “Come see me this afternoon. I have a few errands here in town to take care of.”
“I will, thank you.”
A raucous roar arose from Danica’s Den, just up the street. The councilor frowned. “Though, I don’t know what business you’d have in this part of town. All sorts of unsavory types are around these parts.”
I might wonder the same about you. Tasha offered him a smile instead of a retort. “A friend of mine was down on his luck. He got a job at Danica’s Den. I thought I would see how he’s coping.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean to imply you’d be involved in anything untoward.” He touched her arm, recoiling slightly when he felt the feathers of her cloak. “Would you mind if I told some others where to find you? We’ve been sorely missing you. The other herbalists in town just don’t measure up.”
“I don’t mind.” She bowed to him. “That’s why I’m here.”
After the councilor departed, Tasha crossed the street in front of Danica’s Den. It had been years since she stepped foot in the place. The commotion coming from the building surprised her. Tasha expected the establishment received most of its business later in the evening. The structure resembled a nondescript warehouse someone stuck a windmill on top of. She suspected it was once a utilitarian building that Danica had added onto over the years.
A young dwarf held the door open for her. A recent arrival, Tasha had seen him around town and believed he worked to repay a debt of some sort. Thanking him, she entered the dark, smoke-filled tavern. Four townsfolk clustered around one of the gambling tables. The rest of the bar area was empty. A cheer arose overhead.
She nodded at the bartender as she approached. “I’m looking for Yun, the caprikin?”
The barkeep, wiping sweat off his brow with a dirty rag, pointed toward the ceiling. “Upstairs. All betting is off, though.”
“Thank you.” Tasha hurried away, having no intention of drinking or betting. Several wrought-iron spiral staircases led to the upper levels of Danica’s Den. She chose the nearest and ascended. Pipe smoke mingled with the musty scent of burning herbs. Although the stairs continued to a third floor, a crowd of howling townsfolk clustered around a fenced-in arena comprising most of the second floor. Danica herself, a matronly woman with a mane of greying black hair, stood on a box overlooking the arena. Wearing a red-leather-trimmed black dress, she resembled a seductive sorceress one heard about in stories.
Her fashion choices deliberately led one to such impressions; of that, Tasha harbored no doubt. She wound her way through the crowd toward the arena. Two men challenged Yun, who, bare-fisted and bare-chested, wore only a loin cloth.
Feeling rage rise from the pit of her stomach, Tasha shoved her way through the crowd toward Danica. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Yun clobber one man with a right hook. Spinning, he shoved the other man with a cloven hoof on his riposte. The first man roared, charging. Lowering his head, Yun, braced himself.
The man, upon colliding with Yun’s horns, collapsed to the floor, where he lay motionlessly. Upon Yun raising both arms, the crowd roared in delight.
Tasha seized Danica’s arm, spinning her. “What is the meaning of this?”
Her voice reverberated through the arena, louder than she expected. The crowd fell silent, backing away. Tasha’s cloak billowed behind her, appearing for a moment as a massive pair of crow’s wings.
Danica glared at her, a mixture of fear and defiance in her steel eyes. “How dare you come into my establishment…”
“Crow Queen.” Yun approached the women, bowing.
“I was told Yun worked here.” Tasha felt bile rise in the back of her throat. “I come to visit, and I see you forcing him to fight for the amusement of the townsfolk?”
Danica threw off Tasha’s grip. “Force? What sort of establishment do you think I’m running?” She gestured at the caprikin. “This was his idea.”
“Yun fight. Make good money. People here”—Yun bared his teeth at the nearest spectator—“soft as mud.”
The man laughed. “Ha! I won five crowns on you!”
Tasha’s cheeks grew hot. “This was your idea, Yun?”
Bouncing his head up and down, the caprikin accepted a mug of ale thrust at him from behind Danica. “Warrior. Need practice. Throwing out drunks not practice.”
“Here, move out of the way. It’s my turn.” Aerik shoved spectators aside, stopping short when he saw Tasha.
He bowed, pulling the nearest man down with him. “Crow Queen. Come to see us fight? I am honored.” Rising, he belched. “Just passing the time until Therkla gets back with our money so we can leave town. Yun thinks he can take me. Well, I’m about to show him what Watchfolk are made of!”
“Ice and stone,” a man in the crowd shouted.
“Ice and stone, fire and steel!” Aerik raised a fist above his head.
“Yellow snow!”
Aerik spun on the man behind him, then pushed him backward. “Maris take you repeatedly with her bloody spear. Come to the Watches and see how you fare, mudder.”
“Silence!” Raising her arms, Danica shouted. She then sneered at Tasha, “Well, ‘Crow Queen’? Will you permit me to continue to run my business as I see fit?”
Tasha lowered her eyes. “My apologies. I misunderstood what was going on here.”
“Stay and watch.” Aerik took her arm. “I’ll win for you, Crow Queen. Maybe you’ll favor me, eh? Therkla and I have a long journey ahead of us.”
“I have no desire to watch blood sport.” Tasha extracted herself from Aerik’s grip. “I wish you well on your journey. I have a place in a clearing between Miners’ Gate and the river. Perhaps you and Therkla will stop by on your way out of the city.”
“Yun?” She turned to the caprikin. He wiped foam from ale off his lips. “Come see me if you need something for bruising or aches. There’s a glade outside of Miners’ Gate, toward the river. Understan
d?”
Yun thumped his chest. “Put money on Yun. You win.”
Tasha left the men to their fighting, descending the stairs two at a time, stopping for no one until she reached the safety of the street.
Chapter 37
Aveline returned to the citadel after paying Therkla. She propped her feet on her desk, reveling in the first moment of relative peace since she left for the mine. Home would be better, but duty calls.
Lieutenant Valon entered carrying two stoneware jugs. He placed one on Aveline’s desk. “Fresh cider from Rockbreak Orchard, m’lady.”
Midsummer rock apples from the orchard provided the only source for cider this time of year. Aveline often wondered how they managed to ripen such delicious fruit so early in the season. Every time she asked, the dwarf Ogden Rockbreaker only smiled his gap-toothed grin and said, “Magic.”
“Magic cider from magic dwarves.” Aveline popped the cork. Bringing the bottle to her nose, she inhaled spicy-sweet and floral aromas. “Has anyone seen Tasha? She should have been back by now.”
“There have been sightings here and there. The bakery, the baths, the market.”
Aveline corked the cider jug. “The market’s closed today, isn’t it?”
“Yes, maybe she forgot.”
Sighing, Aveline leaned back in her chair. “I could sleep for a week.”
“Go home, then.” Valon opened the door to the larder. “It’s quiet here. I can send someone to fetch you if something happens.”
“It’s all the way across town. Maybe I’ll bunk here.”
The door slammed open. A moustached, short-haired man, entered. The tabard he wore bore the markings of the same knightly order to which Aveline belonged. She noticed a short, triangular-shaped blade where his left hand .
She remained in her seat with her feet propped on the desk. “Shut the door.”
Ignoring her, he strode forward. “I am Sir Maxim Arshavin, Knight of the Order of the Shield, duly appointed by Her Highness Princess Valene of Almeria. I have been to Dawnwatch, and I found it to be in shameful disrepair. I demand to see the knight-commander of the garrison.”
Summer of Crows Page 27
