Summer of Crows

by Hans Cummings

  “Honestly, I don’t think you can help me find the answers. Mother Anya might be able to give me some clues, but I think she’s just as puzzled as I am. Or she accepts it as being Cybele’s will.”

  Aveline agreed Tasha made a good point, and she took no offense at the suggestion she could not help find the answers the Crow Queen sought. “All right, well, look. Just… come by my place tonight. I’m planning on going home around dusk. We’ll discuss it more then.”

  “I’ll bring a pie.” Smiling, Tasha glanced at the table. “Or two.”

  Aveline laughed. “We can eat ourselves to sleep.” She moved to leave.

  “Send the next one up, would you, please?” Tasha pressed her hands together. “Maybe do another favor for me, and tell everyone I’m tired and need rest after that one?”

  “It’d be my pleasure.” Aveline trotted down the steps, her armor clanking as she bounced to a stop. She pointed at the nearest petitioner. “You there, the Crow Queen will see you now. The rest of you, go home.”

  The command caused a round of protest to arise from the crowd. “She needs rest and time to eat and bathe. None of you are entitled to demand more of her time than she’s willing to give.” Aveline clapped her hands together. “Now, disperse. Don’t make me bring the city watch out here.”

  Despite their grumbling, the crowd complied. A few people lingered, hoping to catch the Crow Queen’s attention, but Aveline offered them a withering stare. Approaching each one in turn and physically turning them around, she pointed them toward town with a final command to return home.

  Aveline followed the stragglers, ensuring, under her watchful eye, they all reached the city gate. Observing the sun still fairly high in the sky, she resigned herself to continuing her rounds.

  * * *

  After the last petitioner reached the bottom of the staircase, Tasha shut the door. She organized all the gifts people brought her, storing the wine and ale in the larder, and arranging the pies on the table, a half-dozen in all. Fortunately, no one brought her any uncooked meats as of yet.

  Contemplating the back door, she pulled the cloak tight around her. She never felt too warm, even when wearing it inside the hut on a hot day.

  “So, do I just think or speak a destination?” Tasha decided to test her idea. “I want to go to Muncifer.”

  The door shimmered before it shifted to a street scene. Stonework buildings lined a cobblestone road. Humans, draks, and minotaurs shuffled past, unaware anyone watched from afar. A striped drak with wings wrestled with an infant, and he glanced at a passing minotaur pushing a cart of potatoes. She couldn’t hear their conversation, but she observed the drak laugh at something the minotaur said.

  No, maybe I’d rather go to the Cybele’s Church, in Curton instead. Merely thinking her desire resulted in a similar effect. Instead of a city street, Tasha viewed the interior of the church. Standing near the altar, Mother Anya lectured to several acolytes listening intently.

  Revan flapped in from outside to perch on the edge of the basin. Cocking his head at her, he preened himself.

  “Well, that’s convenient. But if I go through, how do I get back?” She glanced at Revan. “I don’t suppose you could tell me?”

  “Caw!”

  “That’s what I thought.”

  Tasha collected four pies, cradling two in each arm, and strode toward the doorway. Noting the portal offered no resistance, she stepped into Cybele’s Church. She found it as easy as passing through an open door. Mother Anya shrieked upon Tasha’s sudden appearance.

  “Cybele’s ti… by the Grace of our Mother, the Crow Queen!” Mother Anya put a hand on her cheek, blushing crimson at her near blaspheme. The acolytes, gasping at her outburst, spun to face Tasha before falling to their knees.

  “Get up, all of you.” Tasha regretted the forceful command as soon as she said it. “Don’t kneel to me. I brought pie.”

  The acolytes’ eyes widened. Mother Anya stood motionless. “Pies?”

  Tasha offered them a smile. “People needing my help and advice brought them. Payment, I guess. I can’t eat all of these myself, and I wanted to ask you some questions, Mother Anya. I thought, perhaps, you and your brethren would like to have these.”

  Mother Anya directed the acolytes to take Tasha’s offerings. “That is most generous of you, Crow Queen.”

  Reserving the wild berry pie for herself and Aveline, Tasha handed the other three to the acolytes. “Is there somewhere we can speak privately, Mother Anya?”

  “Of course, child.” The matron gestured toward a door behind tapestries near the altar. “Let us retire to my chambers.”

  Tasha followed Mother Anya. The room, not much larger than her own hut, featured a small desk, two simple armchairs set before a wood-burning stove, and a bed. A hand-carved bull’s head, symbol of Cybele, hung above the bed. Mother Anya pulled the chairs together and sat, patting the seat of the empty chair.

  “I need you to tell me everything you know about the Crow Queen.”

  The corners of Mother Anya’s mouth upturned. “In truth, I don’t know you very well. You’re not one of our regular parishioners.”

  Tasha shook her head. “Not me, Mother Anya. The Crow Queen… as a figure, a servant of Gaia, Cybele, and Artume. I’m, well, to be honest, I am at a loss. I don’t even know if I can return to the hut using the means that got me here. I didn’t grow up hearing the stories, how she came about, what her history is. Yet… here I am. How did Annika become Crow Queen?”

  “Annika received the mantle when her mother died.” Anya pursed her lips. “As far as I know, it has been passed from mother to daughter for generations.”

  “Never mother to son? Father to daughter? Father to son?” Tasha understood Gaia, Cybele, and Artume predominantly encouraged feminine priesthoods owing to their own gender identities; yet, neither Gaia nor Cybele outright prohibited men from the priesthood.

  “Unless Artume forbids it, it’s not impossible, though any men who took up the mantle were not identified as such in the old stories.” Mother Anya slumped in her chair. “I’m sorry I’m not much help, dear. The Crow Queen is enigmatic. She helps, or she doesn’t. I knew Annika, yes, but not well. She always seemed distant to me. I didn’t know her mother was Crow Queen until after she died when Annika showed up one day when she was expected at High Harvest.”

  Tasha considered her words. “Do you know any priestesses of Artume?”

  “There is a young huntress, Vasilisa. She spends most of her time in the wilds east of town, though she does come in for the Dusk of Autumn festival.”

  “At the equinox. That’s”—Tasha counted to herself—“fifty days away.”

  “And with Abarron gone”—Mother Anya gestured toward Tasha—“you’re our foremost authority on Gaia.”

  The words sat in Tasha’s breast like a lump of wet clay. “Great. Well, did you ever see Annika come and go, like I just did?”

  “I never witnessed it myself.” Mother Anya leaned forward to take Tasha’s hands. “You’ll learn. You’ll make mistakes. Don’t hide from them. Think of yourself as a village witch. Only, you’re young. You have plenty of time.”

  Her reassurances did little to assuage Tasha’s anxiety.

  Chapter 41

  When the afternoon gave way to evening, Aveline returned to the citadel to ensure no tasks needed her immediate attention, then she went home by way of the butcher and bakery. While she waited for Tasha, she started a fire. She placed a chicken in a pot, then added a bottle of wine, fresh herbs, and cut vegetables before she covered it and set it in the hearth.

  While the stew cooked, she removed and polished her armor. Sleeping outdoors for several days immediately following the abuse it suffered in the mines did it no favors. Appearing dull and spotted with rust, it no longer possessed a silvery sheen.

  She finished scrubbing and oiling her mail, then worked at hammering out the dents in her breastplate. About halfway through, a knock at Aveline’s door interrupted her. P
utting her work aside, she opened it. To her surprise Tasha, holding a pie, greeted her from the bottom step.

  “I expected you to just appear inside, out of thin air.” Aveline took the pie, moving aside so Tasha could enter.

  “I visited Mother Anya first. Couldn’t figure out how to teleport back to the hut, so I walked here.”

  Aveline smelled the pie. Berries. “Just one?”

  Tasha laughed. “Can we even eat more than just part of this one? I took three to the church.”

  “That was nice of you.” Aveline set the pie on the table before checking the pot in the hearth. The dish still required more time in the fire. “In lieu of tithing?”

  “I was hoping Mother Anya could tell me more about previous Crow Queens or share stories that were more than just bedtime tales about hags and crones.” Tasha plopped into a chair. “No such luck. She said I should think of myself as a village witch.”

  As far as Aveline knew, village witches did not have to concern themselves with as many people as lived in Curton. The stories she heard about the Crow Queen indicated she hadn’t confined herself to just the city, in any case.

  “So, act crotchety, yell at children, and only help the handful of people you know?”

  Tasha giggled. “That must be what she meant.” She brushed a stray lock of hair away from her eyes. “You know, growing up, our village witch wasn’t that old. No older than you or I am now, if I had to guess. She mostly made fetishes for folk looking to ward off evil, and she made the occasional unguent.”

  “How long until you hear back from the Arcane University?” Aveline appreciated Tasha’s magical messengers traveled faster than a rider on horseback could, but she did not understand how that related to the time it would take to travel to Muncifer and back to Curton.

  “Could be weeks, assuming they answer right away. If they don’t…”

  Aveline popped the cork on a bottle of mead, then poured a goblet for each of them. “So you’re stuck waiting.”

  “Unless I go there myself.” Tasha took the goblet, then sipped her mead.

  “Using that door? You’d be mad to do that without knowing how, or if you could even get back.” Aveline expected if Tasha became desperate, even that uncertainty wouldn’t stop her.

  “I was hoping Mother Anya would have some insight. If she could describe what effect she noticed when Annika used the door, I thought I might be able to figure it out, but she never saw her travel that way.”

  “Have you tried clicking your heels together and commanding the cosmos to take you home?”

  “Somehow, I don’t think it works that way.”

  Aveline snorted. “Well, make a flourish with that fancy cloak when you do it, so you look like a proper, mysterious Crow Queen.”

  “Ha! Things are never that simple. But once I figure it out, I’m going straight to Muncifer.

  “You could always walk the hut to Muncifer.” Aveline glanced at the pot in the hearth. Steam sputtered out from under the lid. “I’m not keen on you being away that long, though. Not with Koloman having these problems and this new knight in town.”

  “New knight?”

  “You want any of this chicken?” Aveline went to the hearth to lift the lid of the cauldron. Steam rose from the pot, caressing Aveline’s face with savory aromas. “It’s not fancy, but it’s cooked in wine and herbs. It’s better than nothing.”

  “Are you suggesting I should eat more than just pie tonight?” Tasha laughed.

  “Eat what you want. I’m not your mother.” Aveline stabbed at a chicken thigh with a fork, extracted it from the pot, then shook it off onto a plate. She scooped some vegetables alongside it, set the dish on the table, then repeated the procedure with a second plate.

  “I’ll have some chicken, thanks.”

  As they ate, Aveline told Tasha about Maxim’s arrival and his orders. “He’s a pompous arse, but I can’t just ignore him.”

  “I suppose asking you to come with me is out of the question, then.” Tasha poked at a carrot with her fork.

  “I would love to, but I can’t.” Aveline’s lip curled at the thought of having to deal with Maxim on a regular basis. “I can’t risk Maxim conscripting half the city watch to rebuild Dawnwatch. I’m not really keen on you going alone, though.”

  “I can handle myself, Aveline.”

  “Yes, you can.” Aveline sipped her mead. “But it would make me feel better.”

  Tasha waved her hand. “I’ll be all right. I promise I’ll wait until I figure out how to use the portal both ways, then I can return to Curton each night. How’s that?”

  Resting her hand on her chin, Aveline regarded her friend across the table. Dark circles smudged beneath Tasha’s honey eyes. “I don’t know anything about this arcane lore or mysticism. I wish I could be of more help.”

  “You help plenty.”

  “Right now, I want to help eat that pie.” Aveline pulled the berry-filled pastry toward her.

  “A fine idea, m’lady!”

  * * *

  Their appetites sated and the moons rising high into the sky, Tasha decided to depart for the evening. Yawning, Aveline stretched before hugging her friend.

  “You know, I think I’ll try it.” Tasha stepped away from Aveline, flipping her cloak around her body as she clicked her heels together. “Send me home!”

  Aveline burst into laughter. “It was worth a try.”

  Warmth faded from the mantle. Tasha ran her hand along the hem. “You know, I think you were on the right track.”

  “You’re joking.” Aveline leaned on the back of a chair.

  “No. Everything so far has responded to my thoughts, my desires.” Tasha spread the cloak. “Why should this be any different?”

  “So… what are you going to try? Do I need to move anything?”

  “No, just stand still. If it works, well, you’ll know instantly.” Tasha glanced around her to make sure she wouldn’t hit any furniture or catch her cloak. Closing her eyes, she visualized the interior of the hut and then snapped the cloak closed around her.

  Hearing the calls of a hundred crows, Tasha felt herself moving along at an incredible rate. She dared to open her eyes, viewing Curton passing beneath her in a blur.

  And then, she stood inside her hut. Laughing, she spun in a circle. “It worked! I can’t believe that worked. Aveline, did you see…” She realized her friend was still in Curton.

  “I want to go to Aveline’s home.”

  Shimmering, the back door showed Aveline sitting dazed on the floor near her hearth. Tasha rushed forward, stepping through the doorway to offer a helping hand.

  “You’re back?” Aveline sputtered several half-expletives, unable to complete a thought.

  “I was in the hut in an instant. I wanted to come back to hear what you saw and to let you know.” She grasped Aveline’s arm, steadying her friend as she collected herself. “Did you fall?”

  “You flipped that cloak around, and it exploded into scores of little crows. They flew all over. I stumbled backward, then, suddenly, they were gone. By the time I noticed, you were stepping into the room out of thin air.” Aveline fumbled for her goblet of mead, draining it in one gulp.

  Tasha pulled her friend into a hug. “Looks like I’m going to Muncifer after all, thanks to you.”

  Aveline pressed her hand to her forehead. “I’m glad I could help.”

  “I hear there are some good meaderies around Muncifer. I’ll bring you a bottle or two tomorrow.” Tasha clutched the edges of her cloak. She didn’t know if the flourish helped, or if it was merely a pointless affectation, but she enjoyed it.

  “You’re leaving now?”

  Tasha stopped. “No, in the morning. I doubt they’d let me in the Arcane University library this late. No one there even knows who I am.”

  Aveline spread her arms. “No one will know who you are in the morning, either.”

  “True, but I can present myself properly. I did attend the Arcane University in Maritropa.
I know the protocols.”

  “Let me know when you get back.”

  Tasha hugged her friend again. “I will. Sleep well, and don’t let people like Maxim and Koloman aggravate you too much. They’re not worth it.”

  “Don’t worry about me.” Aveline nodded. “Worry about them.”

  Grinning, Tasha took hold of the edges of her cloak. “I have to admit, I kind of love this.” She thought about her hut, whipping her cloak closed. In an instant, she arrived home. Korbin and Revan huddled together on the windowsill, their sleep disturbed at her arrival, shuffling and tittering before settling themselves.

  Stifling a yawn, she approached the bed, but she paused. I wonder… can I just use the cloak to travel? She pulled the cloak closed around her and concentrated her thoughts on the city market. A feeling of warmth enveloped her. When she opened her eyes, she remained within her hut, although the back door now showed an image of Curton’s deserted market, pale light from the King and Queen illuminating the empty and shuttered stalls.

  “Oh well, it was worth trying.”

  She changed out of her clothes, doused the lights, and crawled into bed. Despite her mind racing with the infinite possibilities instant travel provided, Tasha succumbed to sleep within minutes of her head hitting the pillow.

  Upon awakening the next morning, Tasha heard the chatter of people down below. Scattered sunlight streamed in through her windows, beams of light broken by the branches and leaves in their path. Neither Revan nor Korbin remained in their windowsill perch. Cramps in her lower abdomen reminded her that her time to pay Cybele’s price drew near. Damn. I should have moved the hut last night.

  Rather than face the horde of townsfolk seeking quick prognostications, Tasha instead thought of a warm, relaxing bath. The back door shimmered, revealing the sylvan glade she first saw several days earlier. She rolled out of bed, pulled on her skirt, a tunic, and her cloak, then stepped through the portal.

  Upon striding through the doorway, she smelled floral scents on the warm breeze. Although no sun shone in the sky, diffuse light spread across the heavens, illuminating the clouds and treetops with a pastel rosy color. It was at once dawn and dusk, a perfect time for birdsong and the chittering of forest animals. Ahead, Tasha saw the waterfall-fed pond she remembered from her first glimpse through the portal.