He bowed his head. “It is we who are honored. You’re the Crow Queen. I had no idea. You’ve done so much for us, all three of our clans now. I truly feel as though Rannos Dragonsire himself is working through his beloved Earth Mother on this day.”
“Now, you can help me, Toviah.”
He studied her with teary eyes. “Yes, anything.”
“Tell your people not to bow to me.”
Blinking, he frowned.
Tasha knelt. She took his hand. “I’m serious. I don’t want people bowing to me like I’m some sort of ruler or goddess. I’m just Tasha. Well, I am the Crow Queen, but I’m here to help, not be worshipped. Understand?”
“I think so, yes.” The old drak chewed on his lip.
“Now then.” Tasha rose. “Let’s see what they have in store for us, shall we? It looks very elaborate.”
When they returned to the area prepared for the party, Elder Klatt stood before the bonfire. With a clap of his hands, the pile of wood ignited. Upon raising his arms, flames shot upward, swirling high into the air. They coalesced into the shape of a great fiery dragon before turning toward the crowd. The draks first gasped, then cheered. The human attendees, ready to flee, brightened when they realized the draks were unafraid. While the dragon swooped overhead, wheeling to circle the bonfire below, they held their ground.
“On this night, we mourn the death of Rannos Dragonsire, struck down by men seeking the doom of all—power.” Klatt, with the help of draks from his own clan, climbed onto a nearby table. “On this night, we celebrate those who persevered through The Sundering, all those who did not give in to despair in the wake of a god’s death and the breaking of the world, but, instead, who chose life. They fought, they died, and they lived. They healed the world. In so doing, they brought together not only the broken pieces of Gaia, but also people. Draks and dwarves, minotaurs and men, even oroqs, and all the forgotten peoples abandoned by the fae during their exodus: the faelixes, the cathar, and the caprikin.”
Elder Klatt paced the length of the table. “Our world is not the world of the Age of Legends, but we have not forgotten it. All of us here, draks and humans alike, come from folk who lived in that faraway world, folk who endured the horror of The Sundering, who chose life, bore children, and lived to see the world healed. Tonight, we remember them and our father, Rannos Dragonsire.”
The draks cheered in unison. A few humans joined in. They seemed unsure exactly what they cheered for. Elder Klatt, moving to hop off the table, accepted assistance at the last moment from a crimson-scaled drak and climbed down. Once both of his clawed feet touched the ground, he clapped his hands again, and the feast commenced.
Chapter 62
Aveline spent the morning touring Drakton and Hillside before returning to the citadel to sit her shift guarding Koloman. The morning after Remembrance usually involved a prodigious effort to clear the streets of trash and drunks still too besotted to make it home on their own. This morning proved no different, so she tasked her constables with the job.
Upon checking on Koloman, she found a half-eaten plate of food. It occurred to her that they could no longer give the Lord Mayor the sleeping draught. With the magistrate en route, Koloman needed to be fully awake and lucid for the tribunal. With each day that passed, the Lord Mayor’s appearance worsened. His unkempt hair and beard would do him no favors, but Aveline dared not provide him with a razor and a basin.
When she returned to the vestibule, Aveline found Tasha waiting for her. The Crow Queen’s eyes appeared slightly bloodshot with dark circles under them. Stifling a yawn, she greeted the knight-captain.
“What happened to you?” Aveline took a seat in a chair by the door to the cellblock.
“Late night. A good one, but late.” Tasha helped herself to a free chair near Aveline’s desk. “How’s Koloman?”
“Enjoying his last day of good sleep. We have to stop the sleeping draughts before the magistrate arrives.”
“Good idea.” Tasha arched her back, stretching. “The magistrate needs to see how far gone he is.”
Aveline leaned forward. “I’m dreading it. He’s so unhinged. I’m beginning to wish I’d taken over Dawnwatch with Maxim. I’m only half serious.” Venting her frustrations made them seem less severe.
“We’ll get through it. Help is coming from the Arcane University. Once the rift is closed, everything will return to normal.”
Tasha’s smile did little to boost Aveline’s confidence. She harbored no doubts the magistrate would be fair and make the right decisions. Instead, she worried about Koloman’s behavior. “Do you think a week of those sleeping draughts will calm him or make his ravings worse?”
“Interesting question.” Tasha bit her lip. “If he’s possessed, it’s possible the entity grew bored with him sleeping so much and left. Or maybe it will release pent-up energy once he’s fully awake again. It’s hard to say.”
“And if he’s not possessed?” Aveline stared into space. Wringing her hands, she questioned herself almost as much as she did Tasha. “If it’s all Koloman in there?”
“I don’t have any definite answers for you, Aveline.”
Sighing, the knight-captain regarded her friend. “I guess it doesn’t matter. We’ll just have to be ready for whatever happens. I want you here when the magistrate arrives, just in case. That is, if the Crow Queen can be bothered…”
“Bothered?” Tasha raised an eyebrow, and she put her hand on her chest. “You’re my friend. I would never be bothered by helping you.”
Aveline pinched the bridge of her nose. “That’s not what I meant. I just… oh, I just want this to be over. I want to go home. Sleep in my own bed.”
Tasha moved closer to Aveline, hugging her. “I know. It’ll be all right. You’ll get through this. You’re the strongest person I know.”
Aveline returned the embrace, forgetting for a moment she was knight-captain of Curton’s city watch. Pulling away, she regarded Tasha. “Thanks. Now tell me about this party you attended last night.”
Aveline welcomed the distraction of her friend’s tale of the Remembrance celebration out by the mine. She checked the fire in the stove, preparing for a lengthy regalement of the previous night’s events.
“Elder Klatt gave a nice speech, we had a lot of food, draks from three different clans mingled with humans, and everyone got along. It was nice.”
Aveline faced her friend. “That’s it? It was nice? You look like you haven’t slept, and it was just nice?”
Tasha dropped her eyes to the floor. “I paid my respects to Vasco, and I may have caused a field of flowers and some trees to grow around all the graves. Everyone was pretty impressed by that.”
“How exactly did you do that?” Aveline caught herself just before leaning on the hot stove with her bare hand.
“I’m the Crow Queen.” Tasha’s cheeks flushed red. “Power of the Earth Mother.”
“That’s impressive.” Aveline returned to her seat by the cellblock door. “Any news about the chaos rift?”
Tasha’s expression fell. “I felt it. It’s growing. We’ll have to act soon.”
“We’ll make it our priority after we deal with Koloman. I hope a few more days won’t make a big difference.”
“If we start digging out the cave after the tribunal”—Tasha clasped her hands in her lap—“we should have the rift exposed by the time help from Muncifer arrives. The draks also said they’d help.”
“Excellent.” Aveline sighed, feeling unexpectedly relieved at the offer of help. “Now we just have to get through the tribunal.”
* * *
Tasha left the citadel to return to her hut. As before, people gathered seeking aid from, or the blessings of, the Crow Queen. She spent the rest of the day and most of the next morning indulging them. Turning away no one, no matter how insignificant their need, kept her mind off Torben, for a full moon came the night after Remembrance. Now, the following day, she hoped to see him, but she did not want to focus on that.<
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And so, she taught people remedies for their rashes and boils and pretended to prognosticate the futures of their babies and loved ones. All the while, she took care to remind fortune-seekers that divination was not an exact art and they’d do just as well with any number of soothsayers in town.
Finally, as the sun set, she sent the last of the townsfolk home satisfied. Breathing a sigh of relief, she found a large, flat rock upon which to sit and watch the moons rise. Fireflies flashed in nearby bushes, and crickets began their evening songs. Interrupting the nocturnal symphony, Korbin alerted the Crow Queen to another approaching supplicant.
“It’s getting late.” Tasha didn’t bother to face whoever approached. “Go home. I’ll still be here in the morning, and I want to rest now.”
“It is a long way home”—Torben’s voice quickened her heart—“and I would never leave without saying goodbye.”
She leapt to her feet, racing to meet him, but she stopped moving after a few steps. The southerner walked with a slouch, and his hair, once so neatly groomed, stuck out at odd angles, as though he’d slept in a typhoon.
“How are you feeling? Did it work?”
“Yes.” Watching her from the sides of his eyes, he approached, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. “I have spoken with the beast within, and it with me, thanks to Vasilisa. We have an understanding now.”
Tasha reached for him. Recoiling, Torben shook his head. “I have feasted on flesh and blood, and I enjoyed it. I am… unworthy of your touch, Crow Queen.”
“That’s nonsense.” Tasha held her hand toward him.
Torben fell to his knees, prostrating himself before her. “I have no home. My kin will never accept the beast I am. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this… these feelings of hunger, a primal need to hunt. I should have asked you to help me end it.”
Tasha took his arm, encouraging Torben to rise. “I would not have done that if I could save your life instead.”
He resisted her efforts to pull him to his feet. “I have faced down frost wyrms in the ice, and spent the night surrounded by ravenous wolves with only a meager fire to protect me. But this? This is beyond my ability to endure.”
A flurry of emotions flooded Tasha. Pity for the pain the once-proud man felt. Disappointment he needed her to take responsibility for his condition. Clenching her jaw, she turned away just as their eyes met, crossing her arms in front of her. “Your fate is not my responsibility. I saved your life. Would you have preferred I let you bleed out in front of my hut? Left you for the carrion eaters?”
“I would have chosen death were it not for you.” Torben choked back a sob.
“I am glad you chose life, Torben. Now you have to live with that choice.” She glanced over her shoulder. Tears ran down his face.
Sighing, Tasha rubbed her eyes. She knelt before him, taking his hands in hers. “I don’t think you’re a monster. But I wonder where the proud, strong Watchman went. You are not the same man I kissed a few days ago. I know that man is still here.”
“I told him not to come so soon.”
Tasha faced Vasilisa. The other werewolf approached. She tilted her head, regarding Torben. “Look at this mewling pup. His beast has thoroughly cowed him. He needs to take control, embrace it but not fear it. Only then will the Torben you remember return.”
“Can you help him? He said he had an understanding with his beast.”
Torben’s eyes darted to her, then to Vasilisa and back. He cowered like a chastised puppy.
“Obviously, he decided to submit to his beast. To be frightened of it, rather than take hold of it and control it.” Vasilisa cupped Torben’s chin in her hand, peering into his eyes. “If he does not take charge, eventually the beast will take complete control and he will become a monster, fit only to be hunted down and destroyed.”
Tasha clenched her jaw. “I thought spending time with you before the full moon would prevent this.”
“Men can be stubborn and foolish.” Releasing Torben, she turned her attention to Tasha. “I told him all he needed to know, yet he did not listen.”
A tear rolled down Tasha’s cheek. Wiping it away, she bit her lip. “I need you to succeed, Torben. I want your help. We must go back to the mine; I want your help there. I want you with me. But you’re no good to me like this.” She nodded at Vasilisa. “What can we do?”
Circling Torben, the elder werewolf stared at him with unblinking honey eyes. “He has to want to change. He will need to force the beast to obey his desires. Once he does this”—gesturing toward him, she shook her head—“weakness will fade. It will be like night and day. Otherwise, fear will consume him, and, at the next full moon, the beast will take control.”
“Then there’s no time like the present.” Tasha clasped her hands behind her back. “I will move deeper into the forest. There’s a clearing to the south, not far from here, but far enough away no one from town should wander by at this time of night. Meet me there, and we’ll deal with this tonight. If I don’t see you by the time the moons fully rise, well, then I’ll know what his decision is.”
She ascended the stairs to her hut, shutting the door behind her. Wiping the tears from her eyes again before climbing onto the stump, Tasha took her place above the basin. She guided the hut out of the clearing in which it sat, moving it farther away from the city. As the hut climbed the hills, she saw Vasilisa transform, chasing after her. Torben followed. Outpacing both, she slowed the hut, allowing them to pass her and run together. By the time she settled into the new location, Vasilisa waited for her.
Tasha joined the werewolf, now in her hybrid form, as they waited for Torben to catch up. “You’re sure this will work?”
Growling, Vasilisa arched her back. “Yes. This is normal. The last pup I helped had it far worse.” Baring her teeth, the werewolf leaned in close to Tasha. “Don’t tell him. He’s done well. If he can force the change now, the beast will never control him.”
In the distance, Tasha heard wolves howling. Bristling at the sound, the werewolf caught herself, then relaxed. Picking at her teeth, she squatted next to Tasha. “He spoke of you. Often. If he can seize control of his beast, he would make a good mate.”
“Really?” Tasha tried to keep her tone flat. In the darkness, she hoped Vasilisa could not see her blush.
Torben stumbled out of the woods. Lacerations caused by branches that had slashed his face during the run healed before Tasha’s eyes. Doubling over to catch his breath, he panted. Vasilisa lunged at him, grabbing him by the throat. He clawed at her paw, gasping.
“Take control, Torben. Change. Force the beast to submit to your will.” She brought his face close to her slavering maw.
Tasha pulled the cloak close around her shoulders, fighting to keep her distance. Concentrating on the life around her, she flexed her toes. In the formidable presence of the two werewolves, the connection with Gaia calmed her. Vasilisa’s aura glowed as a beacon of fury; yet, her force of will and her devotion to Artume, goddess of the hunt, controlled the beast within her. Torben’s energy, in contrast, felt simultaneously passionate and apologetic like a battle between uncontrolled rage and fear. The storm of conflict threatened to tear him apart in an instant.
“I… can…” Through the massive paw wrapped around his neck, Torben choked on the words. “I cannot. Not in front of—”
“Yes! In front of her.” Vasilisa pushed her nose into Torben’s. “I smell your desire. Does she not deserve to know what you are?”
Through her connection to the land, she, too, felt Torben’s desire, trembling at Vasilisa’s ferocity. “What are you, Torben? Show me. I am not afraid.” She said the words to convince herself as much as to motivate Torben.
“No, no.” Torben pried Vasilisa’s fingers away from this throat. Snarling, she threw him to the ground. Clearing his throat, he pushed himself to his hands and knees.
Tasha closed her eyes. Appearing like an unkempt wolf, Torben’s beast stalked the Watchman cowerin
g on the forest floor. Reaching out with her mind, she caressed Torben’s hand. You’re strong, Watchman. I know you are stronger than that beast. You are Torben, of the Four Watches, and I believe you control this beast. Show me. Don’t be scared. Don’t be ashamed. I’m here with you.”
Torben screamed.
Tasha’s eyes snapped open, meeting with his for an instant before he thrashed on the ground. Fur sprouted from his skin as his limbs, popping sinew and cracking bones, stretched. His screams continued as bulging muscles tore through his clothes. Crackling and deforming, his face grew longer. Teeth became fangs, whiskers punched through his cheeks, and a tail thrashed as fur grew to cover it in a shaggy coat.
Tasha forced her eyes to remain open, despite fear seizing every muscle in her body. She wanted to turn and flee to the safety of her hut, but she remained and witnessed his transformation. He stood on all fours, panting. Tasha knelt, holding her hand out to him. The newly transformed werewolf sniffed the air before padding toward her. From the periphery of her vision, Tasha saw Vasilisa drop to all fours before disappearing into the darkness.
Covered head to toe in black, bristly fur, Torben’s werewolf form stood half again as tall as the largest dog Tasha had ever encountered. Sniffing her hand, he licked it. He then sat on his haunches, gazing at her with soulful amber eyes.
“Can you understand me, Torben?”
The werewolf bowed his head. With a trembling hand, she scratched between his ears. He crept forward, then sat at her side, leaning against her. Tasha folded her legs beneath her, wrapping her arm around him. Glancing up at her, he laid his head in her lap and closed his eyes.
Chapter 63
Aveline descended the stairs after a night of fitful sleep. Without the effects of the sleeping draught, Koloman’s ranting and raving returned full force, almost as if he made up for lost time. He cajoled, threatened, and pleaded for freedom in between offering foreboding predictions and random non-sequiturs.
Summer of Crows Page 45
