The Ravens of Death (Tsun-Tsun TzimTzum Book 4)

by Mike Truk

  “Shocking,” said Brielle wryly.

  “Let’s tend to Emma’s neck,” I said. “Little Meow? What needs to be done? How much time do you need?”

  “I am… worn out,” said Little Meow, her voice a whisper. “But if I could sleep for an hour or two, and eat something? I could work on her some more. Perhaps by tonight we could be ready.”

  “Good deal,” I said. “Khandros? Where could we rest while we heal up?”

  “My home is open to you all,” he said loudly, turning and staring pointedly at the crowd. “And let it be known that I, Khandros of Elleria, did risk everything to help the tenth Savior in his time of need.”

  “As if you’ll ever let us forget,” said Mrakina.

  Khandros snorted with dark amusement. “You know I shan't. Come, Savior. Come this way. Karios, run ahead and warn your mother.”

  Karios bobbed his head and raced off.

  “Come, Savior. Are you in need of a cart to transport your wounded companion?”

  “No,” rasped Emma. “I can walk.”

  “Lead on,” I said. “And thank you.”

  He clapped a large, calloused hand on my shoulder. “My pleasure. And perhaps your friend has more of those golden beads?”

  “Perhaps,” I said, unable to restrain a smile.

  His grin was wolfish. “Then we shall continue to understand each other. Come! My home is not far from here. But let us walk slow. My wife will never forgive me if I come rushing up with a Savior without giving her time to prepare.”

  “Lead the way,” I said.

  * * *

  Khandros’s home was in the poor quarter of town, but remained charming, displaying a rustic beauty that took my breath away. So steep was the slope on which it was built that it was a two-story building in the front but reduced to a single story behind.

  Its white-washed sides were peeling, terracotta roof tiles sagging and askew, but a large vine blooming with pink and crimson roses grew around the rough wooden portico that protected the front entrance. Two trellises arched out over the narrow road, which climbed deeply worn stone steps alongside the home; more roses bloomed across the wooden frames. Slender trees bursting with pink blossoms grew here and there, while above the home, a large acacia tree spread its canopy over the rear roof. Its leaves nearly glowed to bronze in the sunlight.

  “My home,” said Khandros, spreading his arms and turning to walk backward. “Humble? Yes. But it has been my family’s for countless generations. I climbed these steps when I was a child, just as my father did, and my grandfather before. Just as Karios did not long ago.”

  “Lovely,” said Imogen, linking her arm with mine.

  And it was. A pot of burning-orange sunflowers was set by the front door, while lavender grew in clumps beside the steps that led past it. The air was redolent with herbal scents, and I thought I smelled cooking onion and garlic coming from within.

  “Ementina! I home! I bring guests!” Khandros turned to stride in through the open front door.

  “His wife must love it when he does this,” said Imogen softly as we followed, the others right behind us.

  After my eyes adjusted to the interior from the brilliance of the day, I saw a large room dominating the ground floor, with benches along the walls. In a kitchen in the corner stood a handsome woman in her middle age, while Karios busily set forth plates across a broad table that dominated the back of the house. Pans were frying up lunch over small fires contained within the clay kitchen counter, and a pot was bubbling over a tripod set within a chest-high chimney.

  “Be welcome!” Ementina stepped forward, wiping her hands on a striped cloth then tossing it at her husband’s chest without looking in his direction. “I am Ementina, mistress of this home, and you are welcome here. My apologies for not being better prepared to receive you, but I cannot work miracles alone, especially not when cursed with such an oaf of a husband.”

  “Ementina, you shame me,” said Khandros, pulling the towel away.

  “You do that well enough yourself,” said Ementina, her smile never slipping. “But ah - you’re wounded! Oaf! You stand there while this girl sways on her feet? Come, come, this way, please.”

  Taking Emma’s elbow, she led her across the room and through an archway, Little Meow and Brielle in tow.

  I wanted to do the same but knew the other two would take good care of her.

  Khandros tossed the towel aside and forced a smile. “Savior, a cup of wine? Shall we toast your victory over the wardens?”

  “That sounds great,” I said, moving to sit where the bench passed under one of the windows, the view of the harbor below. “Valeria? Imogen?”

  “Do you have anything stronger?” asked Valeria, then grimaced. “No, wine is fine, thank you.”

  “I’ll have a little,” said Imogen. “We can’t let our guard down.”

  “You speak the truth,” said Khandros, taking down an earthenware jug from a shelf and unstopping it with relish. “Karios! Five cups!”

  “Five?” asked the youth. He hurried across the room to another shelf, from which he deftly plucked clay cups, the sides adorned with black patterns.

  “You will toast with us,” said Khandros firmly, moving to pour as the youth set the cups down on the kitchen counter. “For you will sail with us tomorrow.”

  “I will?” The kid’s voice broke again, and he blushed furiously. “I will? Oh, thank you, Father!”

  “What will he be doing?” asked Ementina, appearing as if summoned in the doorway, her face a storm cloud.

  “Sailing to Argossa on Senca’s boat!” Khandros tossed the words at his wife like a challenge. “He is fourteen-years-old. It is time he acts the part of a man.”

  “He is fourteen-years-old,” said Ementina, striding forth to stand toe-to-toe with her husband. “And if you are intent on -” She cut a glance in my direction and controlled herself. “Khandros. If you value your marriage, attend me out back.”

  She walked through a slender door in the back of the room, out into a sunlit courtyard.

  Khandros inhaled loudly through his nose as he stared up at the ceiling, then turned to me with a fierce smile. Taking his cup, he raised it. “To you and the Source, Savior.” Without waiting, he downed it in one go, then set it down with a click, striding out after his wife.

  “Ah, domestic bliss,” said Imogen. “How I look forward to the day.”

  Karios handed her a cup. “You, ah, are going to be married, Lady Imogen?”

  Imogen considered me sidelong. “I’m not quite sure what’s going to happen.”

  For some reason, my pulse sped up, and I found my tongue turned into a block of wood. “Ah. Marriage?”

  “Hmm,” said Imogen, swirling her wine around within her cup. “No precedent has ever been set for what a Savior and his companions do after defeating Lilith. Who knows?”

  “Perhaps we should focus on defeating Lilith first,” said Valeria dryly. “Or even just her remaining warden?”

  “Wise,” said Imogen, her smile still playful. “But it doesn’t hurt to daydream a little.”

  Valeria accepted her cup from the blushing Karios and leaned back, resting an arm on the windowsill so the sunlight dappled her skin. “True. Who was it that said they’d love to have a home here on these islands? Brielle? It’s not a bad idea.”

  And I found myself imagining it as I sipped the sweet white wine. A home like this, on a sun-drenched isle, with a rooftop pergola that would catch the breezes. My companions with me, without any danger, without any mission - just enjoying each other’s company as we worked the land, or fished, or…

  I smiled, looking down into my cup. “It sounds good. But I think we’re a ways from that still.”

  “One day, maybe,” said Imogen, clicking her cup against my own. “To dreams.”

  “To dreams,” said Valeria, clicking her cup against both of ours. “Where I come from, we have a toast. It goes:

  Between what we shouldn't and that which we aught,
>
  Lies a perilous life where all is for naught,

  We live and we suffer, and we strive all in vain,

  But for one of your smiles, I'd do it all once again.”

  Imogen paused, cup half-raised to her lips. “That’s… grim.”

  Valeria tossed her wine back, set her cup down, then shrugged. “My home was a grim place. Noah can attest.”

  “That I can,” I said.

  “But even so.” Valeria slowly spun the cup around between her fingers. “It gives me hope, that toast. It speaks to me.”

  “Why’s that?” Imogen, taking a sip at last.

  “Why’s that?” repeated Valeria thoughtfully, staring away and out the window. “Because… everything is so transient. It reminds me to live in the moment, because tomorrow, or even the next hour, could be our last. To be grateful for the friends and loved ones I have with me, that I can toast with.”

  She turned back to me, her gaze intense and focused. “To relish this moment. Life is hard, and usually only gets harder. In the end, the only surety is pain and death. But right now. Right here. We can toast, we can laugh, we can love, and that… justifies the journey. It’s the reason for taking it in the first place.”

  I pursed my lips and nodded, turning her words over in my mind. “How did it go again?”

  She lifted her cup to Karios, who had been listening with avid attention, and he adroitly refilled it.

  Valeria held my gaze and repeated the words.

  I clicked my cup against her own. “For now, we are gathered, and joined here in song,” I said. “May there be many such moments in the days to come.”

  “Agreed,” said Imogen, clicking her cup against our mine. In silence, we downed our wine.

  “You guys…” breathed Karios, his face nearly glowing. “You guys are so amazing. I can’t believe I’m here, hearing this.”

  Valeria laughed and patted the bench beside her. “Take a seat. If we’re to journey together, you do not need to act like a servant.”

  “I hope we do,” said Karios, glancing back at the archway to the courtyard. “But that’ll depend on how well my father reckons with my mother.”

  “Excuse me,” I said, setting down my cup. “Going to check on Emma.”

  I crossed the room and passed through the archway. The chamber beyond was even darker than the main one, for the shutters were drawn. But the air was cool and had a clean savor. Emma lay on the larger of two beds, Little Meow curled up by her side asleep.

  Brielle was seated on the bed’s edge, holding Emma’s hand. As I drew closer I saw that Emma slumbered as well, her breath slow and rhythmic.

  “How is she doing?” I asked softly.

  “Resting, which is good,” said Brielle, reaching out to curl a strand of Emma’s pale blond hair away from her cheek. “She came so close to death that I can’t even stand to think about it.”

  I set a stool beside the bed and sat, elbows on knees, fingers steepled before my face. “If Little Meow hadn’t been right there, if her reflexes weren’t so sharp…”

  “Who is she? Did you see her fend off that warden? She was parrying his stabs with her bare arm.”

  “I don’t rightly know,” I said, studying the cat mask. It had been pushed slightly askew by the thin pillow so I could make out the underside of her chin. “But she hit Agax hard enough to knock him flying.”

  “She must have mastered Manipura, then.” Brielle returned her hand to Emma’s. “And luckily for us. Without her…”

  I could only nod in grim agreement.

  For a while we sat there, watching both women slumber. Then I turned my attention to Brielle, watching as she studied Emma’s face, her own drawn with concern.

  “You care for her,” I said.

  “Hmm?” She looked up at me. “For Emma? Of course.”

  “No. I mean more than that.”

  Brielle narrowed her smoky gray eyes.

  “Just an observation,” I said, looking back to Emma. “I care for her, too. Love her.”

  Brielle’s gaze slid back to my oldest friend, the woman I’d loved for most of my teenaged years, and I saw her run a thumb over the back of her hand.

  “She’s so brave,” Brielle said at last. “To be facing what we’re facing. To only now be developing her powers. To have stuck with us all this time.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And I… I want to protect her. Even as I tease her. Even as I know she needs room to grow, to come into her own strength. She still seems so… innocent. Naive, even.” Brielle’s words were pensive, her tone soft. “But I know that’s a lie. She has steel within her, and greater strength perhaps than any of us recognize.”

  “For the longest time she was like a big sister to me,” I said. “Wiser, smarter, more… I don’t know. Aware of how the world worked. After Michael died, she grieved, but picked a new path. To go to New York City - it’s kind of like our capital, in a way, millions of people living in skyscrapers and the like - and start her own business. To leave Ruddock. To leave me. I was devastated. But also so proud of her. It was a big deal, leaving our town like that. To head out alone. I don’t think I could have done it, back then. Leave everything behind for a frightening and different new world.”

  “In a way, perhaps she was more prepared for this journey along the Tree of Life than you were,” said Brielle.

  “Yeah, maybe. I mean, it helps that I have Shard and magic and all that, and I know she felt out of place, but… yeah. She’s got steel inside her for sure.”

  “Which is good.” Brielle was still softly rubbing her thumb across the back of Emma’s hand. “She’s going to need it. We all are.”

  “Ain’t that the truth.” I stood and kissed the top of Brielle’s head. “You need some rest, too.”

  “In time.”

  I returned to the main room, where Karios was excitedly regaling a bemused Valeria and Imogen with a tale of his exploits.

  “…then two of the pirates dove off the side of their ship and came swimming toward my boat. I’d nothing on me but my net and gutting knife, and I knew I was done for. But did I panic?”

  “I don’t know,” said Valeria with obvious amusement. “Did you?”

  “No! I waited till they were just about to board my boat, and threw my net over them! The three began to thrash, caught up like silverlungs, and -”

  “Three?” asked Imogen. “I thought you said they were two?”

  Karios grinned and waved the question away. “The five pirates -”

  Valeria snorted and looked over at me. “And?”

  “Sleeping. Little Meow as well. We’ve got a quiet afternoon to fill. We should prepare to strike the temple at dusk.”

  “My father stuck his head in the window,” said Karios. “He’s going to rouse what’s left of the city’s militia to help you tackle the first warden. But I think it’s really just an excuse to take up his sword once more.”

  “Nice of him, but probably not necessary,” I began, stopping when Ementina swept into the kitchen.

  “Food. Hot food, and lots of it. Enough with the wine, there’s battle tonight and you’ll not want your head swimming. Cold water from the well. Karios?”

  “All right, Mother, all right,” said the youth, moving to take up a bucket by the door.

  “Now, I imagine half of this has burned,” said the lady, moving to her frying pans. She stirred them vigorously, sniffed at them, and shook her head in despair. “How one is supposed to run a household when surrounded by mooncalves and dotards, I don’t know. Are you all hungry?”

  “Famished,” said Valeria with a grin.

  “Then make yourselves useful. Here are a cutting board and a knife. Chop all of this and put it in that pot. You. Are you really the Savior?”

  I stood up and dusted off my hands. “Yep.”

  She scrutinized me, momentarily without comment, then gave a sharp nod. “You’ve still two hands and a need to eat. Do you know how to make bread?”

  “I do
n’t,” I said.

  “Do you know how to roll out dough?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do you know how to season a dish of prithyaki?”

  “Never heard of it.”

  “Men!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “Then go help my son draw water.”

  Laughing, I did as I was bid, heading out into the bright sunlight. Half an hour later, lunch was served on a circular table of stone in the center of the courtyard, whose expanse was sheltered by ivy-covered rafters overhead. Birds nested in the eaves; a massive, shaggy dog, whose muzzle had whitened and eyes grown rheumy, lay in the shade, panting contentedly, while bees buzzed overhead.

  The food was delicious, but halfway through the meal Khandros returned with a dozen men in tow. All of them spoke loudly, nobody seeming to listen to anyone but themselves.

  “Khandros! What is the meaning of this?” Ementina leaped to her feet. “More guests? Have you lost all reason?”

  “Peace, woman!” Khandros held up his palm then turned to me. “I have undertaken bold initiatives and bring welcome news! The first warden is gone! Yes! We scouted the temple and have found the altar swept bare, the vestibules stripped of their wealth, and that enigmatic whore of the Morathi fled! It is true!”

  The other men laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. They were all older and grizzled, Markos the harbormaster amongst them.

  I stood. “You’ve done well. And faced terrible danger in doing so. Why not call me and my friends for help?”

  “What, did Lilith steal our cocks as well as our autonomy?” Khandros placed his hands on his hips. “We were all soldiers once, and the best of the archipelago!”

  “Khandros, language!”

  Senca stepped forth, hands raised placatingly. “Don’t fret over your husband's safety, Ementina, for he stayed at the back and was ready to run at a moment’s notice.”

  Khandros rounded on the man, eyes widened in mock fury. “You insult me in my own home?”

  “I must take advantage of the opportunity,” said Senca reasonably, “for it’s a rare occasion to find you outside a tavern.”

  More voices sounded from behind, and the men parted to reveal a dozen women bustling forth, each carrying a pot or dish wrapped in cloths.