Torben extracted his arm from hers. “I’m sorry, this is wrong of me… you must have more important things to do than indulge—”
Tasha took his hand. “Nonsense. I’m not a goddess, a high priestess under a vow of celibacy, or a princess with a dozen royal suitors. This”—she lifted the edge of her feathered cloak—“makes me no less or more of a person than you. Right now, right here, for you, I’m just Tasha. Can I just be Tasha, Torben, please?”
“Yes, of course.”
They passed under the arched, wrought-iron gate of the orchard. The rough, partially rusted metal depicted the leaves of an apple tree bearing fruit.
“What brought you to Curton?” Tasha paused to admire a cluster of sweet alyssum flowers growing around a grove of apple trees. The tiny white flowers resembled a splash of snow against the verdant grass of the orchard.
“I wanted to see more of the world than just snow and ice.” Torben led Tasha down the winding path between the trees. “I sailed up to Vlorey, worked as a caravan guard en route to Celtangate, then traveled to Maritropa to see the magical, flying city.”
The powerful arcane means that kept the city afloat, attracted Tasha to the Arcane University in Maritropa instead of the one in Muncifer. “And now you’re heading home through here?”
“That was my intention.” Torben glanced down at Tasha. “Once I arrived here, I found I didn’t want to cross the mountains again. It’s not that I fell in love with the town—it has few attractions—I just… there’s little for me to go home to. And you? I hear you’re an outsider, as well.”
“Yes. I came here a little over ten years ago.” Tasha watched a butterfly flit within a cluster of wildflowers. Curton had not changed much since she arrived, and she connected with only one person in all that time. “I was running, and I kept running until, well”—she chuckled—“I guess I didn’t want to cross the mountains, either.”
“What were you running from?”
“Facing my grief. At the time, I thought my lover died in payment for our past indiscretions.” She patted his hand upon seeing his furrowed brow. “We were involved with a group that believed some pretty terrible things about draks and their place in the world. We were wrong. In the end, Lorelei died helping others—draks, minotaurs—achieve something noble. Something good.”
“I’m sorry.”
Squeezing his hand, Tasha smiled. “She was an elf. Only her mortal body died. Her spirit returned to Gaia’s side, and she can again roam the Fae Realm. My time with her was wonderful, but I realize now we should make the best with what we’re given, rather than constantly focusing on what we can’t have.”
Torben sighed, stopping under the boughs of an old, gnarled apple tree. The low-hanging green fruit, beginning to ripen, promised a bountiful harvest within a few weeks. “You and Lady Aveline…”
“Are just friends. That’s what you’re wondering, right?” Tasha released his hand, turning away before lowering her head. “It’s what everyone wonders. I’ve been here over ten years, turning down every suitor, but spending so much time in Aveline’s company at taverns or just sitting in our homes talking. Too many people assume we’re lovers. Some don’t care, others…”
“Are jealous they can’t be happy in their own relationships.” Torben moved behind her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Among the Watchfolk, people are expected to get married and have children. Pacha’s Pox, they call those who take lovers with whom they can’t have children.”
Pacha, the god of wine, madness, and passion, always caught the blame for what certain folk considered debauchery or perverted behavior, although in Tasha’s experience, those truly guilty of heinous behavior toward others they didn’t approve of rarely felt any passion, only hatred and fear. Loving another person was a blessing by Aurora, in Tasha’s view.
She took Torben’s hand. “I don’t know why I feel comfortable around you, Torben. I barely know you. I’m still figuring out what it means to be Crow Queen.”
“Helping the people in town clean up after the flood, I heard a lot of things. They regard you highly. Lady Aveline too. It’s not my place to offer advice, but I would say don’t be afraid to rely on your friend for guidance.”
Tasha hoped she could. She didn’t want to burden Aveline with her problems, though. Bringing Torben’s hand down off her shoulder, she resumed walking. “This got maudlin. I thought we were supposed to talk about frivolities.”
“We Watchfolk don’t often have the luxury for frivolities.” Torben chuckled. “I suppose, if you were of a mind, you could give me your blessing as Crow Queen for my hunt in a few days.”
“I’m not up on my blessings for things that fall under Artume’s purview, yet.” Tasha made a mental note to add teachings about the goddess of the hunt to her reading list. “Though I suppose if you treat your prey with respect and are not wasteful with your kill, then the goddess will have no objection.”
“It won’t go to waste. I promised the folk here I would bring them a couple of boars for their larder.”
Tasha frowned. “Which folk?” Boars were notoriously difficult to hunt. They tended to fight aggressively, unlike deer or mountain sheep who only sought to flee their hunters.
“Florin and Alina Maranu here at the orchard.” He gestured toward the house at the crest of the nearby hill. “I’ve been helping them get ready for the harvest.”
“Take care, Torben. I saw a werewolf in the forest south of town. I think I frightened it off, but there could be more.”
He patted the ornate dagger at his hip. “Silver. We Watchfolk are no strangers to brothers and sisters of the moon. But I appreciate the warning.”
As the sun sank beneath the horizon, fireflies joined the crickets, providing visual accompaniment to their evening songs. They continued wandering the paths of the orchard until the King and then the Queen started their journeys across the sky, chasing after the now-departed sun in their perpetual cosmic dance.
“Shall I walk you back to town, Torben? The paths grow dark, and I fear the light from the moons won’t be enough to safely illuminate them for you.” The Mantle of the Crow Queen afforded Tasha the ability to see clearly in low-light conditions, however, Torben enjoyed no such boon.
“No need.” He pointed toward the house on the hill, illuminated from within by candles and its central hearth, like a beacon in the distance. “I’ve moved to a room in the orchard house. They’re letting me stay for free in exchange for my labor, and they’re paying me, too. It’s not far, and I know these grounds well now. What of you?”
“I can return home in an instant.” Tasha giggled. “I almost feel like being dramatic and telling you the power of the Crow Queen will usher me away safely. I don’t know that it will be all that impressive in the dark.”
Torben scratched his head. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
Smiling, Tasha stepped backward. “Then I’ll demonstrate.” Holding the edges of her cloak, she extended her arms at her sides, like wings. “Good night, Torben, perhaps we can do this again soon.” Snapping the cloak shut around her, she returned to the comfort of her hut in an instant.
Chapter 50
The next several days of peace and quiet almost made Aveline think normalcy had returned to Curton. Then, she arrived at the citadel one morning to find Lord Mayor Koloman waiting for her. He continued to allow his beard to grow, now neatly trimmed, and his velvet doublet and dark leather breeches pointed to a man recovered from his ordeal.
“Ah, Lady Aveline”—he bowed, sweeping his arm before him—“a pleasure to see your beauty on this fine morning.”
Behind the Lord Mayor, Lieutenant Valon raised his eyebrows, and the corners of his mouth turned slightly upward. “The Lord Mayor has graced us with his presence while waiting for you to arrive this morning, Lady Aveline.”
“I’m flattered. What do you want?” Ignoring his attempts to kiss her hand, she stowed her shield and mace before sitting behind her desk.
“Onl
y to thank the woman who allowed me to sleep soundly once again. My dreams, of you”—he winked at Aveline—“are lascivious and pleasant once more.”
Aveline hunted for paperwork in which to immerse herself, but she found none. “Tasha’s not here. You need to thank her. At least you bathed.”
“Indeed, though, I was saddened to learn you were unable to help me with that.” Koloman sat on the edge of her desk, leaning closer toward her. “I insist you join me for dinner at my estate tonight. As the only proper lady in town, it’s high time you were married to someone befitting your high stature.”
Lowering her brow, she glared. “That won’t be happening. I have no desire to dine with you, or to entertain talk of marriage.”
“Oh, come now”—he cupped her chin in his hand—“I could bring you such pleasure tonight.”
Slapping his hand away, she jumped out of her chair.
Lieutenant Valon cleared his throat. “Lady Aveline, I need your help with a prisoner. Kettlegut’s gotten rowdy again.”
She turned her glare on Valon. He gestured toward the cellblock. She returned her gaze to Koloman. “I must attend to my duties. Don’t let me keep you from the rest of your day.”
Aveline turned her back to Koloman, picking up her mace before following Lieutenant Valon. She shut every door between the front vestibule and the cellblock as they passed through. Upon reaching the deserted cellblock, a quick glance confirmed her suspicions.
“I didn’t think we had anyone here. Who in Tinian’s name is Kettlegut? What’s your game, Valon?”
“Apologies, Lady Aveline.” Pressing his hands together, Valon bowed. “I merely wanted to get you away from the Lord Mayor before you assaulted him. He’s been… in a mood.”
She couldn’t fault Valon for protecting her from herself. “Evidently. What’s going on?”
“I know not. He addressed me by name. I didn’t even know he knew my name. Inquired about my home life. He smiled. He joked.” Valon pointed toward the front room. “That man is not Koloman.”
Aveline flung open a cell door, then sat on a bench. “Maybe whatever Tasha cleansed from Koloman had been in there for years. It doesn’t matter. He’s still a letch.”
“What did she do to him?” Valon sat next to Aveline.
“Something in his dreams. I don’t understand it myself. Have there been any strange reports from the mudders or hunters lately? Something else Tasha mentioned.”
“There’s talk of more wolves about lately, but it could be a migration.” He scratched his chin. “No one seems concerned. Why?”
She patted his leg. “Probably nothing to worry about. Can you check if he’s gone? If not, bring me a set of shackles and tell him I’ll be a while.”
Valon laughed. “I see, sacrifice me.” He bowed. “Very well, m’lady.”
He returned after a few minutes to report Koloman had left. Taking a break, she ate with Valon and a few of the other guards in the citadel. Mailed boots stomping into the vestibule interrupted their gossip of goings-on in town.
“Lady Aveline? Constables?”
One of the sergeants leapt up, intercepting him.
“Maxim. Both in one day.” Aveline rubbed her temples. “I must have angered Dolios to have luck this poor.” She refilled her mug with mead.
Mug in hand, Aveline entered the room, observing Maxim wringing his hands while he spoke. Inhaling deeply, he nodded to the sergeant.
“Back so soon, Maxim?”
“There’s a problem at Dawnwatch. The lads I hired are ill-equipped to deal with it, and I’m afraid… well, it’s something I’ve not dealt with before.”
Aveline pinched the bridge of her nose. “What is it?”
“A haunting. I believe there’s a ghost in Dawnwatch.”
* * *
Over the next several days, Tasha returned to Muncifer to browse the Arcane University library for more texts on Artume, lycanthropes, and chaos rifts. She filled several pages with notes. Each time she sought either Apprentice Katka or the archmage, both were indisposed and unable to give her further assistance.
Still, the trips proved fruitful. In combination with studying in the library, moving the hut with each dawn, and visiting the draks at the mine, she barely realized how many days sped past. Unwilling to risk another week-long absence, she altered the hut once again to include a bathing vessel. To her delight, it filled with hot water whenever she entered the room; however, it did not serve to relax her as well as the pool in the sylvan glade.
Each day, she sent Korbin or Revan to check in with Aveline. On the fifth day, one returned with a note from her friend requesting assistance with a problem a man called Maxim struggled with. She conjured a messenger, sending it ahead to Aveline, letting her know she’d meet her at the citadel shortly.
Tasha changed into fresh clothes, then held out her arm for Revan to join her. He landed on her shoulder. Upon summoning an image of the citadel vestibule in the back door, she observed Aveline conversing with an armored man. Stepping through the portal, Tasha raised her hand in greeting.
“You must be Maxim. I am Tasha, Crow Queen.”
Maxim recoiled. “Tinian’s lance! What sorcery is this?”
“What? They don’t tell stories about the Crow Queen in Almeria?” Laughing, Aveline hugged her friend. “Surely you’ve heard people talking around town.”
“No one talks about a feathered woman appearing out of thin air.”
“What’s the problem?” Tasha drew her cloak around her, keeping her distance from the agitated man. Revan hopped off her shoulder to perch on Aveline’s desk.
Stammering, Maxim eyed Tasha with suspicion. Aveline sighed. “He thinks Dawnwatch is haunted. There’s a ghost or something in the ruins.”
Tasha regarded her friend. “Why call me?”
Putting her hand on Tasha’s shoulder, Aveline walked her away from Maxim. “You were a sorceress before becoming Crow Queen. I need to get him out of my hair, and we don’t have time to track down a priest of Aita, that Bonelord who came through here last year, or request help from the Mage’s Guild. Can you see if you can help him for me, please?”
Tasha squeezed Aveline’s arm. “I was simply curious. You know I wouldn’t say no if I thought I could help.” She turned to Maxim. “Tell me what you’ve seen. What makes you think it’s a haunting? Have you actually seen a spirit?”
“I have not. There is a tree growing up through one of the buildings. It has destroyed the roof. When we tried to chop it down, it shook and roared. We were assaulted by stones flung at us with unseen hands, hounded by wailing and screaming as we retreated.” Maxim’s hands trembled as he related the tale. “Oroqs, boggins, goblins, I could fight. But this? How do you fight something you cannot see?”
“The disturbances started only when you tried to chop the tree down?” Nibbling on the end of her finger, Tasha furrowed her brow.
“Before that, some of the men with me reported seeing a fleeting motion out of the corners of their eyes. I dismissed it. Old places play tricks on the senses. Some of the folk here have an abundance of superstition.” Maxim clenched his jaw. “I cannot believe I allowed myself to become so fearful over spooky noises.”
“If it is an angry spirit, they are capable of much worse than just scary noises and throwing stones.” Tasha faced Aveline. “I’ll go out to Dawnwatch and see what I can do.”
She tapped Maxim on the arm. “Come with me. You’ll have to leave your horse here, but I expect the next group of helpers that go out there can bring her along.”
Tasha held out her arm for Revan. The bird flew over to her, first landing on her hand, then hopping up her arm to her shoulder.
Sniffing, Maxim followed her out of the citadel. “I ride a stallion. By what means are we traveling?”
“I will take you to my hut, just outside of town, and we will go directly to Dawnwatch from there.” She glanced over her shoulder at him. “That is, if you can stomach more sorcery. Otherwise, you’re free to
take the long way.”
“I apologize for my outburst. I assure you, I have no anxiety of magic.”
Resisting the urge, Tasha chose not to base her impression of Maxim on Aveline’s obvious distaste for the man. “Good, because you’ve never experienced what I’m going to show you. Follow me, please.”
She led him through the city streets to Mudders’ Gate, then down the lane leading to the orchard where she had enjoyed her walk with Torben. She’d hoped to talk with him again when he returned from his hunt. However, waiting to see him until after she dealt with whatever caused the disturbances at Dawnwatch seemed the responsible choice.
Only a few people waited for her at the hut when she arrived. Staring at it, Maxim rubbed his chin. He seemingly puzzled over the logistics of a hut perched atop crow's legs on a hill overlooking the orchard. Flying from her shoulder, Revan landed on the edge of the roof overhanging the door.
The assembled people clamored for her attention. Tasha stopped before them, holding up her hands. “Please, one at a time. I have to leave for Dawnwatch, so be brief.”
A young couple approached her. “Please, Crow Queen. We are just married and afflicted with a rash. It’s…” Their eyes darted to Maxim and the crowd before they averted their gazes and stared at their feet.
“I’m sure what you have can be cured with a salve available in the market. I suggest speaking to Natalia. She usually has such herbs.” She’s also a decent alchemist if that fails. Tasha ushered them away, addressing the next man in line.
A stout, balding man with what little hair remained protruding outward from his head like a halo of fury scowled. “This is my orchard. Why are you here, Crow Queen?”
“You’re Florin Maranu?”
“Yes, have you come to curse my crop?” Pointing at her, his accusing finger trembled.
Summer of Crows Page 36
