“Is that safe?” The thought of having a werewolf that close to the city made Aveline’s stomach clench into a knot, despite Tasha’s assurances.
“I’ll be mobbed day in and day out by people wanting me to cure their bunions.”
Fania talked around the bit of sweet roll in her mouth. “They should just rub it with oil until it goes away. If that doesn’t work, whack it with a hammer.”
Tasha covered her eyes with her hand. Turning her around, Aveline walked her to the door. “We’ll be all right here. Let me know if you need help with anything.”
“I’ll see you soon.”
Aveline shut the door behind Tasha. Picking up the vial on her desk, she left Fania to watch the vestibule, and she entered the cellblock. She crept toward Koloman’s cell, listening as she approached to see if she could tell whether he slept.
Stopping short of his cell door, she peeked around the corner. On his back, Koloman lay on his cot, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The tray with food still sat on the floor by the slot at the bottom of the door. Pulling the stopper out of the vial with her teeth, she reached through the bars. Stretching, she held it over the top of the bottle of ale.
I don’t know why we’re not just giving him muddy river water. She chastised herself for the stray thought. All their prisoners received clean food and drink at her orders. No less. She tipped over the vial, spilling its contents into the ale before withdrawing her arm. Thus far, he had not stirred. Cupping the vial in her hand, she rattled the bars of the cage.
“Better eat up. If the rats get your food, you’re not getting anything else until tonight.”
Koloman stirred. Sitting up, his eyes narrowed as he saw her, but Aveline left before he began ranting. She tuned out his demands for release, making a point of slamming the door to the cellblock as she exited.
Meanwhile, in the vestibule, Fania had finished her first sweet roll and started on a second. Admonishing her because she had brought only one for each constable, Aveline took a seat behind her desk. It promised to be a long, boring day.
* * *
By the time Tasha returned home after delivering the sleeping draught to Aveline and purchasing meat from the butcher for Torben, she found the Watchman awake, sitting upright in bed. Tasha set a skillet in the hearth, then tossed in some sausages.
“How are you feeling today?” After starting another kettle of tea for him, She approached to check his dressings.
“I feel well.” He tugged at a bandage on his chest until it fell away, revealing bright pink lines across his chest where gouges once exposed his ribs. “It disturbs me how quickly these healed.”
Tasha examined him with wide eyes, tracing one of the new, already-fading scars with her fingers. Realizing her hands had lingered, she snatched them away from his chest. “That’s rather amazing.”
She turned away, feeling blood rise to her cheeks, and devoted her energy to cooking. While the sausages sizzled, she told Torben of her plan to move the hut for Aveline, then check on the draks and their Remembrance celebration.
“That’s something to do with The Sundering, yes?”
“Yes, a celebration of Rannos Dragonsire, the father of all dragon kin, including draks. His death triggered The Sundering.” She moved the skillet to a cooler part of the hearth while she prepared Torben’s tea.
He came up behind her. She felt her heartbeat quicken at his proximity.
“I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
Glancing over her shoulder, her eyes met his beard. Tasha adjusted her view upward. “I’m happy you’ve recovered so quickly. Have you come to a decision yet?”
His hand hovered near her shoulder. Holding her breath, she anticipated his touch. Torben lowered his hand, turning away. “No. I’m going to speak to the werewolf before I decide.”
“I think that’s wise.” She poured the tea into a cup, then handed it to him. “Even though you’re healed, you’ll still need to drink this daily. I’ll bundle enough of the sachets to last you until the next full moon.”
He thanked her, taking a seat on the end of the bed, then sipped the tea. She served the sausages along with some bread from the larder. They ate in somber silence. Once they had finished, she moved the hut to its new location just outside Mudders’ Gate. Within minutes, people exited the city to gawk at the crow-footed hut. Most did not linger. It pained her to ignore those who did, but entertaining their petitions would distract her from the tasks she needed to accomplish.
As Tasha prepared to visit the draks at the mine, Torben packed his things. “It’d probably be best if I go back to the orchard for now. Working will help me come to terms with what I must do.”
“If you need a safe haven, you’re welcome here.” Tasha hugged him, then opened the door.
“Thank you, Crow Qu… Tasha.” He smiled, stroking her cheek. He descended the stairs. Tasha tuned out the cries of the people below. From the requests she heard, her intervention in their lives was not needed. Once Torben reached the bottom of the steps, she shut the door.
With reluctance, she summoned the mine in the back door. The image displayed in the portal showed the mine entrance as well as the edge of the graveyard. She stepped through into an overcast day. The rhythmic tapping of metal on stone filled the air as sculptors chiseled the monument and headstones. The air smelled of earth and embers as smoke rose up the chimneys of the small earth-and-wood huts the draks had erected outside the mine.
After greeting the workers and paying her respects at Vasco’s grave, Tasha sought out Klatt. She found the drak elder in one of the larger huts. He sat on the ground, whittling a piece of wood. The thatched ceiling sat low, forcing Tasha to crouch upon entering. Wood, bone, and feathered totems hung from the walls, and a small fire burned near the back.
Glancing up when she entered, he returned to his work. “I wondered when you’d pay us a visit.”
“I see you’ve settled in nicely. Are things well?”
“Well enough.” He pointed in the direction of the mine with his half-carved wood. “There is slumbering evil in there.”
“The chaos rift.” Tasha lowered herself to sit cross-legged in front of the drak elder. “We collapsed the cavern around it.”
“Something else.” His lips curled away from his teeth. “The rift is leaking into the mine. Even now, we’ve had to close off some of the lower chambers.”
The weight of the mantle pressed down on her shoulders. “It’s growing. I’m sorry. We thought it was contained. I have the ritual to close it, but I’m waiting on help from the Arcane University. We’ll also need to find people to help us dig it out.”
“It is deep, yet it changes the world around it.” Upon setting down his knife and sculpture, he folded his hands in his lap. The popping fire behind him showered the air with a swirling cloud of sparks. “We will help to protect our new home.”
Tasha described the collapsed cave in the hills that led directly to the chamber containing the chaos rift. Klatt fiddled with his knife. “That may be a safer approach. I will have my scouts look for and evaluate it.”
“Thank you, Elder Klatt. May I ask you about Remembrance?”
He bowed his head. “What do you wish to know?”
“Are any of your people planning to join the draks in town for their celebration?”
“No. We have had no contact with our brethren in town.”
“Perhaps that will have changed by next year. The people in town don’t understand the celebration, they even fear the draks a bit, but the townsfolk could make an effort to learn about drak culture.”
Klatt nodded. “Thank you. Know that our brethren and any townspeople who are interested are welcome here at our celebration.”
Tasha’s heart soared at the prospect. “Thank you. I will let them know. I don’t know how many will want to travel two days out of town for it, but I think you can expect a few families.”
The drak elder spread his arms. “We will welcome
them. We are all children of Rannos Dragonsire. You are welcome that night, as well. We would be honored to include you, Crow Queen.”
“The honor would be mine, Elder Klatt.” Tasha bowed to the drak. “If I am able, I will be here. For now, I must return to Curton. I will pass on your invitation to the draks there.”
After taking her leave of Elder Klatt, she returned to the graveyard. Row upon row of wooden stakes marked each grave; dotted among them stood stone markers for the victims whose identities were known. At the center of the graveyard, stoneworkers chiseled a boulder that formed the base of the memorial honoring all the wizard’s victims. She thanked them for their hard work before returning once more to her hut.
Korbin greeted her from his perch in the window. She stroked his back while she checked on the crowd, careful to remain hidden from view. Save for a few individuals she recognized from their repeated attempts to inquire about their futures, the earlier crowd had dispersed. Nevertheless, she decided to use the hut’s portal to go directly to Drakton. Once there, Tasha sought out Zadok and relayed the Elder Klatt’s invitation.
“It pleases me to hear more of our brethren have arrived. We planned a rather nice celebration this year, although, it would be nice to celebrate with other draks for once.” He rubbed his hands together, his light grey scales even duller than usual in the diffuse overcast light.
“There’s been trouble in town, and Lady Aveline is unable to commit the guards she needs to keep order if mudders show up and get rowdy.”
“Trouble?” He glanced at the draks milling about, teaching their children, hammering away at buildings still in need of repair, or just loitering. “Things are pretty much back to normal after the flood.”
Tasha shook her head. “It’s nothing to do with you. It’s the Lord Mayor. His situation has unsettled a great number of people.”
Zadok scratched his chin, nodding. “I’ll see if any of the families want to visit the Icescale clan then. Perhaps we will find lost kin among them.”
“Elder Klatt has extended an invitation to the townspeople, as well, Zadok. It would be good to see you there.”
Tasha shared Klatt’s invitation with Aveline before returning home. She spent the rest of the afternoon tending the folk who came to her hut seeking assistance, most of whom she referred to fortune-tellers or other herbalists in Curton. At night, she scried on Muncifer on the lookout for Katka’s sparkling candles. She dared not venture near the Arcane University, fearing the barrier might knock her out again. The apex of the archmage’s tower rose above the rest of the university compound, however, making it visible from the center of the city.
Over the next several days, her routine remained much the same: check in with Aveline, tend to townsfolk with serious concerns, and check the Arcane University. On the eve of Remembrance, she finally saw the promised sparks and glitter cascading down the side of the tower.
The time had come to meet the archmage at last.
Chapter 60
Strolling through the marketplace, Aveline adjusted the shield slung across her back. Tasha’s sleeping draughts made life guarding Koloman at the citadel immeasurably easier. For the past several days, the knight-captain felt almost relaxed. She stopped to examine a stall selling hand-woven blankets when she heard the clanking approach of someone clad in armor.
“Lady Aveline, how fortunate to run into you here.” Maxim crossed his chest with his closed fist in salute, stopping alongside her.
Aveline scanned the marketplace. “Strange, this does not seem like Dawnwatch.”
Maxim forced a smile. “You jest, but know I am here only to procure more supplies.”
“That’s good, I suppose.”
“I enjoyed a great deal of success recruiting people from Cliffport to garrison the fort.” He pulled off a glove to feel the fabric of one of the blankets. “Even a trader or two to set up a waystation there for folks moving inland from the port.”
Despite her desire to hold Maxim in contempt, Aveline clapped him on the shoulder. “That does sound like good news. Well done, you.”
She held up a woolen blanket dyed green and blue. “How much for this one?”
“Three talons, m’lady.” The weaver, a young woman from Vlorey with her tight curly hair trimmed short, took the blanket from Aveline, then tied it into a bundle with paper and string while the knight-captain counted the coins from her pouch.
After accepting the package, Aveline headed toward Caravan Bridge. “How’s your dryad?”
“She is…”
Aveline noted a flush blooming on Maxim’s cheeks. “Yes?”
“Immodest. She enjoys teasing me, I think. However, we have come to an understanding. I believe she will be a great asset to Dawnwatch. Plus, we’ll never want for nuts.”
Aveline laughed. “Well, be careful. Those fae will steal your heart away.”
“So I hear.” Maxim cleared his throat, stopping at the top of the bridge. “Anyway, I have brought you payment in full for the loan.”
“How?” Aveline narrowed her eyes. “You cannot possibly have heard from Almeria yet.”
Clearing his throat a second time, Maxim swung his pack around to rest on the bridge’s parapet. “Indeed not. However, with Gwilvanwen’s help, we located a sealed vault behind a bricked-up room in the keep’s dungeon. It contained a treasure trove of antique weapons as well as several chests containing gold crowns.”
He withdrew a small, bulging sack from the pack, then handed it to Aveline. It jingled with the weight of many coins. She set her blanket on the parapet to peek into the sack. The glint of gold caught the sunlight. She plucked one coin from the pouch, examining it. It bore the seal and likeness of Princess Gabrielle the Macabre.
“These are old. I always wondered why that wall was bricked up.” Aveline returned the coin to the sack, then stowed it in her pack. “I remember hearing about Prince Gavril’s grandmother when I was a little girl. Everyone believed she was a necromancer, but the princess was so kind and willing to socialize with anyone in the city and she remained popular her entire life. I haven’t heard much about Princess Valene since she assumed the throne after Prince Gavril’s death.”
“She certainly held eccentric tastes, but you can find no one with an unkind word about Princess Gabrielle. Too bad her grandson Gavril was such a small, petty, and cruel man.” Maxim held out his hand. “I must be off. Do come visit us. I’ll be in town from time to time.”
Aveline clasped his hand. “You’ve done well. I’m sorry things were difficult at first, but you have proven your mettle.”
“I’ve heard about the difficulties you’ve been having here, and I am sorry for contributing to your anxieties. It’s an honor to serve with you, Lady Aveline.” Maxim saluted once more before turning on his heels and returning to the marketplace.
* * *
Gathering her records, along with a book she’d prepared in case she needed to take more notes, Tasha opened a portal to Muncifer and strode through. Weak light from oil lamps and candles spilled onto the streets from nearby windows. Though few clouds obscured the night sky, only one moon, the waxing King, provided light. However, most buildings on either side of the street blocked it until just before it reached its zenith.
Tasha approached the gate of the Arcane University, where two minotaur guards held halberds large enough to split her in half. Towering over her, they didn’t bother lowering their weapons to block her path; they just flared their nostrils, sneering upon the comparatively diminutive human.
Rare visitors to Curton, Tasha had not interacted with minotaurs in years. Still, she stood her ground. “The archmage is expecting me.”
“At this late hour?” The bigger of the two guards, his muzzle tinged with grey fur, snorted.
She pointed toward the sparkles and glitter falling from the tower window. “Apprentice Katka set alight that candle to let me know the archmage is waiting for me. Imagine how upset she’ll be if she learns you refused a guild mage entry.”
The other guard glanced over his shoulder toward the tower. “That sounds like something Katka would do.” He nudged the older, taller minotaur. “Better let her in. You don’t want to end up on the archmage’s bad side.”
“No. No, I do not.” He withdrew a key from his pouch. After unlocking the gate, he held it open. “Enter then, but don’t expect to get out before morning. It’s not permitted.”
Tasha didn’t bother telling him she had other means of egress. She hurried across the campus toward the archmage’s tower. A pair of young wizards held hands, chatting under the blood oak. Caught up in their own world, the young men paid no mind to the feather-cloaked woman rushing past. Tasha chuckled to herself upon remembering how, like plague rats, she had avoided dalliances while attending the Arcane University in Maritropa, shunning unnecessary distractions from her studies.
Upon reaching the archmage’s tower, she found herself wondering about Torben. Tasha had not heard from him since he returned to the orchard. She hoped he’d made peace with his new existence. Climbing the stairs, she admitted she would welcome his distraction.
She paused at the ironbound oak door to the archmage’s private chambers. Little news about the goings-on at the Arcane University made it as far as Curton, so all she knew about this new archmage was she was a drak named Delilah. I’ve only ever met one person named Delilah, and it was a long time ago. She shook off her misgivings.
Tasha knocked on the door. The muffled sounds of swearing preceded the shuffling of feet. The door swung open. She found herself gazing upon a striped drak with crimson and ebony scales and golden silk ribbons tied to her horns. Behind her, Katka waved.
“What do you want?” The drak glared at Tasha. “Don’t you know what time it is?”
Tasha felt her knees go weak. Squeezing her eyes shut, she drew on the power of the mantle to give herself strength enough to remain upright. The memory hit her like a charging minotaur, transporting her back to that fateful battle over a decade in the past.
Summer of Crows Page 43
