Awaken

by Tanya Schofield

  Melody ate obediently, and managed to return Irma’s smile by the end of the meal. Even here among strangers and noise, she felt easier under the innkeeper’s mothering. She looked up and caught Irma’s eye.

  “We appreciate your kindness,” Calder said immediately, nudging Melody gently under the table. She bit her lip and looked down, nodding her agreement with flushed cheeks.

  “Think nothing of it,” Irma beamed as she took up their plates. “Tom will show you the way,” she said.

  I’m sorry, Melody whispered in Calder’s head. I didn’t think… I almost … I’m so sorry… She was freshly panicked at how close she had come to thanking Irma as she normally would have, the way Calder had forbidden her.

  Calder didn’t speak until they were down the steep basement stairs and he had lit a torch. “It’s all right,” he told her, “but you have to be careful.” He breathed deeply, grateful that he had anticipated her slip in time. “I may not always catch it,” he said. “I need you to help me keep you safe.”

  I’ll try, she told him. Breakfast felt heavy in her twisting belly. I’m sorry.

  “I know,” he said. “Now, to work.” He pointed to one of the sacks in the nearest corner. “See the hole in that bag of grain?”

  Melody did not. Her eyes darted from the bags to the ceiling to the shadowy corners of the small basement. She didn’t like this at all, being trapped under the ground.

  “It was made by a rat,” Calder continued, moving around the room with his torch, looking for the expanded cellar. “We need to clear out the rodents so Tom can use his storage. Ah, here we go. See?”

  Melody looked where he was pointing. There was a neatly rounded hole in the wall by the floor, larger than she expected.

  But rats are small.

  “Not all of them, Songbird. And this one’s well-fed.” He handed her his torch and began to widen the hole, enough to get a good look through. She peered with him through the widened opening, and shared his curiosity at the dusty stone floor and arched walls of the tunnel it revealed. “No rat made that, I’d wager. See, there’s a torch bracket. Come on.” With that, he wormed his way through the hole, leaving Melody with the torches. “Your turn,” he said, his voice muffled, reaching back for the light.

  Melody tried to swallow her panic, but it stuck in her throat as she pushed her staff through after the torch. It took all of her willpower to make herself wriggle through the narrow opening, afraid to breathe, the earth crushing everywhere around her.

  Calder helped her up and handed her the staff, unaware of her rising discomfort as he looked around. The tunnel was caved in a few feet to the left of their entrance hole, but it continued on to the right. Melody could see tracks in the dust on the floor, leading into the darkness.

  “That’s our boy.” Calder pointed. “Let’s get him.” He moved down the tunnel, leaving Melody little choice but to follow.

  She frowned. The tunnel was dark, and not just to the eyes. The whole place was like an unpleasant memory, too eagerly shared. Melody trailed behind, thinking. Calder acted as if he didn't feel it closing in all around them, but how could he not? Was it this thing he called magic that set her apart? He had been the only person she knew in her childhood who did not have a faint blue aura surrounding him. The Dwellers all shone in her sight— or rather, they had. But in this place, the people were all like Calder, and seemed unaware of even obvious things.

  They passed a break in the passage as she worked it out in her head, and then another. Each was caved in at the end, and held no tracks. Soon the tunnel opened up into a larger, rounded room, and Melody’s ears picked up a disturbing noise.

  “Bit bigger than I thought,” Calder said as five enormous rats stalked towards them out of the shadows with a slow, even gait. “And he’s got friends.”

  Melody gasped. Rodents were not that large, it simply wasn’t possible. To her eyes, though, each of the animals had a shimmering blue aura – which distracted her only briefly from their bared teeth.

  "Stay back.” Calder put his torch in the bracket beside him, and Melody obeyed as Calder drew his sword. The first of the rats stopped and reared up, sniffing. The ranger struck.

  Melody had never seen an actual fight, save the vision of slaughter the tree had shown her. It seemed a lot like dancing, only with growling, and teeth.

  Calder shifted his stance to keep his back closer to the wall, but the scattered stones of a nearby cave-in made his footing unsteady. He caught one of the rats with his flashing sword and kicked it back into the darkness without its head, and a second soon followed in a spray of blood.

  Melody fought to hold on to the breakfast churning unsteadily in her stomach, but she could not look away. In her mind’s eye, the sight of Calder slashing with his sword was being overlapped by the vision of those masked gray eyes and the soldiers that had slaughtered the Dwellers. She trembled, not knowing what to do. The bright metallic scent of blood was thick in the air. It was too much, too horribly familiar—

  But Calder was in trouble. There was a rat behind him, teeth bared, about to jump – Melody poked at it with her staff. It changed targets immediately, and she flinched, stumbling backwards when it leapt at her.

  “Melody!” Calder heard the staff fall, and turned to protect her. He stabbed her rat mid-leap, spun, and delivered a hard, low slash across the chest of the one jumping at him. Neither survived. The final rodent, though, succeeded where the others had failed. There was nothing Calder could do as the huge teeth sank into the back of his leg, through his trousers. He fell to one side, trying to dislodge the biting creature.

  The rat, almost immediately soaked with Calder’s blood, would not let go, and the ranger groaned in pain. With her staff out of reach, Melody simply kicked the rodent as hard as she could. It released Calder’s leg, and it fixed deep black eyes on her. The blue aura of its magic seemed to throb like a heartbeat.

  She took a frightened step backwards, and while the rat was focused on her, Calder grabbed the sword he had dropped and lunged with all the leverage he could manage. The rat was impaled before it had a chance to jump. It let out a shriek, twitched, and was still. Dropping the sword again, Calder sank back with a ragged exhale.

  Calder! Melody scrambled over beside him, tears in her eyes as she knelt in his blood. The ranger grimaced and held his breath as he probed at the wound with his own experienced fingers.

  “It's not mortal, Songbird. Be easy.” He shifted the leg and let out a small grunt as fresh pain swept through him. Not fatal, but far more than a scratch. This would hobble him worse than Tom was, and Tom wasn’t running from Korith’s soldiers.

  “Lich be damned,” he muttered, sweat appearing on his brow as he tried once more. The pain was simply too much. A desperate thought came to him. “Melody. You can heal this. I’m sure of it.”

  With ... magic? She frowned uncertainly.

  “Yes.” Calder struggled to keep pressure on his still bleeding wound. “Will you try?”

  But how? The smell of the blood threatened her tenuous hold on breakfast. I’ve never—

  “I don't know. I just – Please … you can do this.” He winced as pain shot through his leg. “I know you can, I just don't know … ah, damn.” He let his head fall back on the rocky floor, frustrated.

  All right, she sent him. I’m sorry. I’ll try.

  Melody chewed her bottom lip for a moment, then held her hands over Calder’s leg. She began to hum, then opened up the sound as she concentrated. She had sung the same wordless tune countless times in the Dweller's glade as she wove or planted, and the trancelike state came quickly.

  The power, once summoned, wrapped around them like the air above a candle, wavy and unreal.

  Somewhere at the edge of her awareness Melody felt the tunnel change. What before seemed dark was now somehow … aware. It didn't seem to matter. Everything had been reduced to her voice, his wound, and the power she had summoned. With focus came clarity. Melody felt Calder’s pain, but she
also understood how to ease it. She gently encouraged the blood to slow and the flesh to mend. It was more difficult than anything she’d ever done before, but it was working.

  Only when the shredded muscle and torn skin were repaired did she let the music go. The rush of power diminished, and Melody swayed in the sudden silence, her face ashen. She braced herself with one hand on the bloody ground to keep from fainting, taking deep breaths and fighting against the nauseating coppery smell. She trembled all over.

  Calder rolled to his knees in front of her— and there was no pain. All trace of the wound was gone, except for the hole in his pants.

  “It worked. Melody? Songbird? Are you all right?”

  She nodded weakly, sending Calder a fraction of her exhaustion and nausea. She hoped he would understand.

  “Of course,” he said. “Come on, we'll get out of here.” Calder retrieved the staff and lifted Melody to her feet, letting her catch her balance between him and the richly carved wood.

  Melody tried to clear her head, but the dizziness did not pass. After a moment she took a few small steps, then paused. She tipped her head as if she heard something.

  “It’s all right," the ranger encouraged. "I’ve got you.”

  Melody did not move. The room was wrong. The tunnel was wrong. It was darker than before, and if pressed, she would have said that it resented her. Which didn’t make sense. Her head was spinning. Better to go. She let Calder guide her back to their entry point, eager to be free of the close, hostile air. Her strength ebbed quickly, and by the time they reached the small opening in the base of the wall, she needed help to slip through.

  When they emerged from the basement, covered with dust and blood, it was near noon. The kitchen was bustling, and both Tom and Irma were busy in the crowded common room. Melody, too weary to flinch at the noise of the place, swayed unsteadily even with Calder’s help.

  Silently cursing at how visible they were, Calder positioned himself between the room and Melody as he walked her to the stairs. Subtlety was impossible, but they could at least be swift.

  Melody offered no protest when Calder insisted she lie down; her eyes were closing even as he covered her with the blanket. Her skin was much too pale where it was not smeared with dirt or blood, with spots of fever blooming on her cheeks again. He had pushed her too hard, too soon. Again.

  Calder sat on the edge of his cot, brushing off the dust and giving his sword a quick cleaning on the edge of his cloak. Melody had shown some talent for healing as an infant, when they were bringing her to Gorlois so many years ago, but with no need in the Dweller’s glade, she had surely forgotten. Perhaps it was the healing that her fever was awakening this time.

  He changed into his second pair of trousers, grateful but beyond guilty. Melody’s only safety was in hiding her gifts, yet he had made her use them just a day after he insisted she not. How could he keep her safe while exposing her to such danger?

  “We’ll leave soon,” he whispered, brushing a stray curl back from Melody’s blood-smeared cheek. “Thank you, Songbird.”

  He needed to speak with Tom, Calder knew, the sooner he collected their wage the sooner they could get on the road. Cabinsport suddenly seemed exposed and vulnerable – but there was something else. It tugged at his thoughts, worrying at him. It was the lunch crowd, he thought as he descended into the common room. Something about the people. Something he didn’t like, but couldn’t pinpoint. He sat, glancing around the room once more.

  It was the three men by the door.

  To Calder’s eyes, the men may as well have been wearing Duke Korith’s crest on their foreheads. Simple travelers were not nearly so well armed, nor did they wear cloaks of such quality. Their well-fitted boots bore chaff from the field he and Melody had crossed when they left the NightWood to get here. And while the other residents and travelers drank as heartily as they ate, these three were poking at their bowls, never taking a bite or a sip.

  “All done, then?” Tom smiled as he set a plate of food in front of him. Calder dropped his gaze from the three strangers and forced himself to sound casual.

  “Aye,” Calder said. “You were right about your ... problem.” He kept his words vague, mindful of the crowd. “We took care of what we found. My daughter was exhausted, though, we had to stop.” Tom clucked his tongue.

  “Shame she’s frail, your girl. Some just are, though. Irma worried all morning. Scolded me for letting her help you at all. Anyway, finish up whenever you like. Eat, it’s on the house.” Tom moved away to see to others, and Calder kept his ears alert while his thoughts raced. He put fork to mouth without tasting.

  Finish, Tom had said. To earn the wage, he needed to be certain the rats were gone, and to do that, he had to stay at least another day. Worse, it meant either leaving Melody alone or bringing her back down into the tunnels. Calder’s stomach churned as he debated leaving without payment, just to be clear of the town.

  As he mused, he heard Tom tell the three men – in so many polite words – that a simple man and his sickly daughter were no business of theirs. Calder’s gut clenched in a cold, twisting knot. They had seen her, then, when he had ushered her back from the basement. If they were indeed Korith’s men, they knew exactly who they had seen.

  Calder went cold. Time had run out, and he had no plan. It was time to make one. He finished his food and kept the three men on the edge of his vision as he reassured Irma of Melody’s health and well-being, and asked her leniency on the subject of Attilus.

  “The dog is a comfort to her, lady.” Calder explained. “They are almost as siblings. She would be glad of his company here.”

  Irma’s frown was insincere, and she nodded her assent. “Bring him up the back stairs,” she said. “He’d best behave.”

  “He will,” Calder assured her. “Thank you. Back stairs?”

  Irma smiled. “Kitchen,” she said. “Right opposite the basement. Figured you didn’t see them earlier, since you tracked dirt all the way to the front.”

  “I’m so sorry, lady. I didn’t think to look for any other way.”

  “Get on with you,” she said, shooing him towards the kitchen. “And call me Irma.”

  The scouts would make a move come nightfall, Calder was sure. Only when they left the Inn did he bring Attilus upstairs. The dog immediately took up a position beside Melody’s bed. Calder cleaned his weapons and repacked his few belongings.

  “You’ll stay with her, boy. You’re the only real protection she’ll have until I return.” Attilus thumped his tail. “No more than a day, I promise.” The dog assumed a watchful stance, and Calder sat down to wait.

  No threat came to their room after the dinner hour, or into the night. When the moon showed herself, Calder stood and placed a light kiss on Melody’s forehead - not as warm as he’d feared.

  “Melody?” He shook her shoulder gently, repeating her name until she opened her eyes.

  What’s wrong? She was immediately afraid, and Calder did his best to reassure her.

  “Nothing,” he told her. “Probably nothing. I have to leave— it’s just for a day or so. I need you to stay here.”

  Leave? Why? Where? She sat up, noting Calder’s cloak and pack ready on his bed.

  “I need to make sure we weren’t followed,” he said, which wasn’t the whole truth. They had been followed. He just needed to make sure news of their whereabouts didn’t get to Korith. “I won’t be gone long, and you’ll be safer here.”

  Alone? The thought terrified her.

  “I’ll leave Attilus with you,” he promised. “I’ll tell Irma, she’ll look out for you. Just be careful, and remember what I told you.”

  No magic.

  “None. I’ll come back the moment I can, Songbird, I swear.” Calder kissed her forehead again, hugging her briefly. “Be brave.”

  She nodded uncertainly. She laid back down, and he tucked the blankets around her once more. Attilus jumped up beside her, licking her face before settling in beside her.

&nb
sp; Calder went downstairs and found Irma putting away clean dishes at the bar. The common room was practically deserted save for a lone drinker slumped at a back table. “Irma, I hate to ask this, but ... I have to leave town, just for a day or two. If I leave you some money –?”

  Irma never let him finish. “Will I look after your girl? Of course, sir. Better she not travel in her condition anyway. How is she feeling?”

  Calder handed the plump woman a small pouch. “She’ll be fine, she’s not ill. She just tires easily. This is all I have – for her room and board, and for you, of course.”

  Irma blushed, looking as if she’d like to give the money back. “No trouble, sir, I’ll mother her like she was my own.”

  Calder knew she would. “The dog is with her, but he won’t interfere with you. If I knew any other way – are you sure it’s all right?”

  "It will be a pleasure," Irma reassured him, insisting that he was not to worry. With a promise to try, Calder pulled up the hood of his cloak, and set out after his prey.

  5

  “I'm so hungry.” Kaeliph sounded miserable.

  Jovan didn’t respond. Yesterday his life was normal. Not the best, not the worst. Some money, a place to live, decent job. Now he had no job, no money, no weapon, no place to live, and he was fleeing from the Duke’s soldiers. Being with his little brother again was small comfort.

  “Jovan, I swear I didn’t kill him.”

  “Doesn’t change anything.” Kaeliph's innocence was irrelevant, since Jovan had soldier blood on his hands— literally. He hadn’t been able to get all of it from under his fingernails. The Duke had reason enough to hunt them. Uncomfortable silence returned.

  The brothers avoided the main road as they traveled towards the edge of the NightWood. There was a town out here somewhere, Jovan knew. Rindale. Rindale fighters often thought to make their fortune in the bigger arena of Paltos, and found Jovan to be more than their match. What Jovan remembered most, though, was the blonde girl.

  Kallisti was a merchant’s daughter from Rindale who followed the fighters, hoping one of them would get rich and take her to live in luxury in Porthold or Epidii. Eventually, she had turned her attention to Jovan. He had made his disinterest clear, but she was persistent. When her father came to retrieve her the last time, she had insisted Jovan look her up if he decided to leave Paltos. Now, she was their only hope.