Raveler: The Dark God Book 3

by John D. Brown

  “Is everything ready?” asked Shim.

  “Yes,” Argoth said.

  “Then we leave on the morrow.”

  Argoth gazed in the direction of his former home. Then he turned his back on it and descended from the top of the ridge.

  Children played in the dry lanes between the tents and other structures. A few men were plucking the feathers from a small flock of blackbirds they had netted. Argoth walked across the length of the small city to the shelters dug in the side of the hill where his family slept at night. Serah was there as were Sugar and the others.

  He had talked to Urban’s man Withers about his idea to restore Nettle. Withers had examined the filtering rods and thought it a good plan. Today was the day to act. He didn’t think Nettle would survive much longer.

  And so it was that Argoth sat with Serah and his daughters, watching Nettle, Sugar, and Talen, knowing this was his son’s last chance. Shim was in attendance as were Urban and a few men of his crew. Serah held the filtering rod in her hands. It was black with Nettle’s soul. It had been suggested that maybe burning the rod would free the parts of Nettle trapped within, but Withers had said fire could be as dangerous in that world as it was in this, so Argoth had kept the rod from the flames lest he somehow damage his son. Instead, he held the boy and motioned for Sugar and Talen to begin

  * * *

  Sugar hesitated. She dreaded the pain she knew would come, but she couldn’t just let Nettle die. She quickened the weave. Moments later she felt her bones tear and gasped. It was the worst it had ever been.

  “Sugar?” Withers asked.

  “I’m okay,” she said. She took a moment to catch her breath, then stepped into the yellow world and saw those sitting around her in the odd light that flesh took here.

  Talen sat across from her. From his body three long skir-like lengths appeared. One flew upwards to watch the skies. The others went to sniff the rod in Serah’s hands. The sight of Talen’s roamlings startled her, for they reminded her of the ribbons of light that had swum about the Mother when she’d first appeared in her cave.

  Sugar put on the skenning.

  “I can’t guarantee anything,” said Talen.

  “Just do your best,” said Argoth.

  Talen’s roamling moved across the rod, searching. The time stretched long. Sugar turned and scanned the skies for signs of predators and saw none.

  “I’ve found it,” Talen said.

  Sugar directed her attention back to the rod. The roamling had stopped searching and was wrapping itself about the rod. And then, nothing happened.

  “What are you doing?” she said.

  “Goh, I can’t imagine what this would be like with a live tree,” he said.

  Sugar stepped closer.

  “Get ready,” Talen said.

  Suddenly, Nettle cried out in pain and convulsed.

  “Almost there,” Talen said.

  The rod warped and jumped in Serah’s hands.

  “Hold on,” Talen said.

  Moments later a shining rose up from the rod. The form coalesced. It was more insubstantial than other things in this world and seemed to have a difficult time holding its form, but it took the shape of a man.

  “Nettle,” she said in the world of souls. “You need to get back to your flesh.”

  He regarded her, looked at Talen’s roamling warily.

  “It’s me, Sugar,” she said. “Look around you. There lies your body in your father’s arms. I will help you back into it.” She reached out her hand.

  Nettle hesitated, then took it.

  * * *

  Argoth dared not hope. Serah wiped silent tears from her eyes. Grace asked what was happening and was hushed. But the color drained from the filtering rod until it was as pale as a piece of old driftwood.

  Talen said, “He’s with Sugar.”

  An icy cold ran across Argoth’s skin. “Nettle,” he said. “Son? Can you hear me?”

  Serah put the rod aside, then felt Nettle’s neck. “His heart beats, but he’s not responding.”

  “Give him time,” Withers said. He rubbed his bony hands. “He’s been away much too long. But the rod kept his wandering self safe. Had it been a loose soul, it would have been too late.”

  They waited for so long that Argoth began to reconcile himself to the fact that they’d failed. Then Nettle’s eyes fluttered open.

  “Son?” Argoth said, not willing to believe he was back.

  Nettle wiped the drool from the side of his mouth and looked at it in confusion. He tried to sit up and winced in pain. “Where are we?” he asked.

  Serah burst into tears and embraced her boy. “You’re with us,” she exulted. “You are with us!” The girls joined in hugging him around the neck, bearing him to the ground with joy.

  Nettle grimaced in pain. “Father?” he said.

  “I’m here, son.”

  The silence stretched long, and for a moment Argoth thought maybe this was yet another one of those moments when the old Nettle would flash to the surface, only to be lost again.

  “Goh,” Nettle said. “I’m starving.”

  Tears of joy leapt to Argoth’s eyes. Only Nettle would be thinking of his stomach at a time like this. “My boy, I think we might have some roasted weevil left over.”

  “Weevil?” Nettle asked in alarm.

  Argoth grinned like an idiot, but he couldn’t stop. The look on his son’s face was worth more to him than all the lore hidden in every crack in every glorydom.

  * * *

  Sugar hurt inside. It was unlike any other pain she’d ever felt. She’d talked to Withers about it earlier, and he said that she would have to simply wait. A body could withstand only so much walking, and everyone was different with different tolerances. It would have to heal, and it might not ever heal completely. She took off the weave and put it back in her sack, keeping the pain to herself. Now was not the time to speak of it. Not with the others hugging Nettle. Not with Serah kneeling to the side, weeping uncontrollably into her hands.

  Sugar reached out and stroked the older woman’s back. Serah turned to her, eyes full of tears, and drew Sugar into her embrace. “Praise the Six for you,” she said fiercely. “Praise the day your mother brought you into this world.”

  Serah’s hair smelled of the ale Mother used to use in her hair. And suddenly a memory burst into her mind. She was just a small girl, standing next to Mother outside the house, the two of them scooping sunlit ale out of a bowl, working it into their hair, and trying to keep the dogs out of it. The memory pierced Sugar’s heart, tears brimmed in her eyes, and she clung to Serah, unable, for a time, to let go. Then the emotion finally ran its course, and she pulled away somewhat embarrassed. But as she wiped her eyes, Serah took one of Sugar’s hands in both of hers and held it tight.

  When the wonder of Nettle’s return finally subsided, and Zu Argoth had tested Nettle with a number of questions to satisfy himself his son had truly returned, they ate weevil and a little bit of rabbit cooked over a fire of scrub wood.

  While they were eating, a commotion rose at the far end of the camps. Men were shouting and running. At first, Sugar thought they were under attack. But the men were crowding around two people.

  “Make way, you louts!” Commander Eresh roared. The group parted to allow Eresh and the Creek Widow through.

  Commander Eresh’s clothes were filthy. There was a large dark stain of blood on his tunic over his belly where he’d taken a wound. The Creek Widow was just as in need of a wash.

  “I have found that which was lost,” Eresh proclaimed.

  “I was never lost,” the Creek Widow said.

  Eresh took her hand in his and led her forward and presented her to Argoth. “She said the Grove would perish without a good female head on its shoulders, so I’ve brought her back to you.”

&
nbsp; “You had us worried,” Argoth said to the Creek Widow.

  “I was never once in peril.”

  Lord Shim said, “Running away together? That’s hardly responsible behavior, Matiga.”

  The Creek Widow gave him a withering look.

  Lord Shim just smiled.

  “It was close a few times,” Commander Eresh said. “But we made good sport of it. This old lady has quite a few surprises.”

  “Old?” the Creek Widow said.

  “Ripe,” he corrected himself.

  She groaned and rolled her eyes. “May the Six preserve us.” But Sugar could see it wasn’t all annoyance.

  For the next hour or so, there was a celebration. Argoth told Eresh about Nettle. Then Eresh and the Creek Widow shared the tale of how she had almost not made it out of the New Lands. She, Eresh, and those the Creek Widow had gone for had stolen horses, slept in the woods, and watched for enemies of all sorts. When they finished their tale, those that had crowded around congratulated them. Sugar was glad as well.

  As the crowd thronged the two of them, Sugar moved off. She reached her tent and saw that Talen had followed her. He carried a sack with him.

  “Thanks for doing that,” he said. His long handsome hair was braided.

  “It was nothing,” she said.

  “That’s a good lie,” he said. “I saw you grimacing against the pain.”

  She shrugged. The last two days, Talen had been constantly with others in the host, from the oldest to the youngest, using his powers to remove what he could of that which grew in them. She hadn’t realized until now the power he held. “I’m not doing any less than you are, raveling everyone’s weaves, even if your roamlings are just a little strange.”

  He said, “Certainly not as attractive as the soul I just saw a bit earlier.”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Watch yourself, Hogan’s son.”

  He grinned wryly.

  “What?”

  “That’s what Harnock told me. You know, that world is strangely empty of human souls. I’ve been wondering about my Da. Do you think he was with those who saved you by the river?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Surely someone said something.”

  “I’ve told you everything. I was out of my mind with pain. But I know what you’re thinking.”

  “We have to go back,” he said.

  “The Creek Widow doesn’t think the souls will be there. She said she suspected the tale of the Famished being bottled up in the caves was a well-spun lie. The caves were probably the refuge of those souls that came to our aid. She thinks that years ago they’d somehow communicated with the living stationed there. Probably not with many. Probably father to daughter or mother to son. And they’d concocted a plan. The folks living there had sealed up the main entrance to help their kindred dead. Then they’d started the rumors to keep others from coming back and opening it up again.”

  “Safe as stone,” Talen mused. “Do you think that’s where that saying comes from?”

  “After hearing Mokad’s awful horn, I think that’s exactly where it comes from. They were deep in the rock where that sound could not reach them. Although the woman did say they have patrols, so they don’t stay there all the time. The Creek Widow thinks those patrols not only look for threats but also gather in the dead they can find.”

  Sugar imagined the souls hiding there had probably debated whether or not to help those that were being killed on the battlefield at Fort Echo. If they helped, they’d reveal to the enemy their location. But maybe they couldn’t stand by and just watch. Maybe the dead saw their children and grandchildren about to be taken to the slaughter and refused to hide. Either way, she was happy they had come.

  Talen said, “There’s more than one cave in this land. Maybe our parents found a different refuge.”

  “Let’s hope,” she said. “But if they’re with others, I don’t think they will be keen on us finding them.”

  “Why?”

  “Because if these locations were to be known, if they started to be noised about in the world of the living, it would only draw those that would feed on them. I think the woman that helped me was deciding whether I would be allowed to go back to my body. The Creek Widow thinks that the only reason she let me return was because the dead had already stormed forth to help in the battle and revealed their presence.”

  “She would have killed you?” Talen asked.

  “I don’t think she would have let me go back to my body,” she said.

  Talen shook his head. “So not only do we have to watch for skir and Walkers, we also have to watch for our own. You’d think the world of souls would be perilous enough without our own hunting us.”

  She said, “The dead aren’t the only ones in trouble. What news do we have of Ke?”

  He looked down. “Shim’s spies know nothing. He was being held in Blue Towers the same time you were. That’s the last we know.”

  “I’m sure he’ll turn up,” Sugar said, not knowing what else she could say.

  “I’m going after him,” Talen said.

  “Has Argoth approved that?”

  “He will. I’m not going to leave him out there.”

  Sugar nodded.

  “But that’s a matter for another time,” Talen said. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something else.” He held out the sack in his hand. “I brought this for you.”

  Sugar took it, placed it on a rock, and opened it to reveal a wooden box the size of a cabbage. The image of a sparrow had been burned into the lid.

  Talen said, “I made it big enough for your da’s skull, but I think the other things from your mother will fit as well. The straw ought to keep it all from jostling, but you might want to use some cloth.”

  She didn’t know what to say. The thin panels of wood had been worked carefully, with dovetailed joints, making all the parts lock together into a tight box. The sparrow was beautiful. “Did you burn that?”

  “Some of it. There’s a Vargon carver who I convinced to help with those tricky feathers.”

  She slid the lid open. Just today Da’s skull had been knocked and chipped while in her sack. But it would fit perfectly in here. “The box is beautiful,” she said and reached out and squeezed his hand. “Thank you.”

  He glanced down at her hand, then up into her eyes. “I owed you, for Nettle at the very least.”

  His gaze made her heart beat just a little faster, and that surprised her. He smiled and brought her hand up and kissed the back of it. When he released her hand, the brush of his lips lingered.

  He said, “That lot from Bain brought a lute and some drums. They’re going to be playing tonight. A celebration before we leave tomorrow. A celebration to turn our minds toward happier things. I’ve had a number of women try to arrange a dance for their daughters.”

  “Oh?” she said.

  “I’m all the rage,” he said and grinned.

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh, aye, you’re certainly something.”

  “I kept one dance free.”

  She waited.

  “I was hoping you’d join me in the Banner Dance. This time I thought I’d get my request in early, before some weaver with a dainty nose locks you up. We wouldn’t want you to suffer through that again.”

  “I don’t know,” she said wistfully. “He did wear some very fine cloth.”

  “I’ll borrow a silky woolen tunic. What do you say?”

  “Find a red one, and I might consider.”

  He shook his head and sighed. “You are a hard driver.”

  “Ho!” a man shouted. She turned to see Urban, Soddam, and Withers approaching. Legs sat on Soddam’s wide shoulders.

  “That Urban’s all finery,” Talen said. “I bet he’s got a tunic I can wear.” He looked over at her as if testing her response.
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  “The Mistress told me to stay away from foreign men.”

  “You certainly took that advice to heart, didn’t you,” Talen said.

  “Ah, Talen,” Urban called. “Zu Sleth himself.”

  “How do your wrists feel?” Talen asked.

  “Human,” Urban said. “I thank you very much, my monster-slaying friend.”

  “The bits I couldn’t get will probably grow back.”

  “At that time I’ll return to our illustrious raveler.”

  “You’re leaving?” she asked.

  “I left a skeleton crew on my ship,” Urban said. “And there are others who did not come with me on this journey. Shim is going to need eyes in the outside world. He’s going to need allies, because sooner or later he’ll return to the cities of men. You know he will.”

  Sugar nodded.

  “Why don’t you come with us?” Urban asked, his dark eyes glittering. “My offer still stands.”

  Sugar looked at Soddam and Withers and back at Urban with his fine face that set so many women’s hearts pattering. But there were so many people here to train in the lore. So much that needed to be done for this people to survive the coming winter. They needed every hand to help.

  “I wish I could go,” she said. She felt as if she were saying good-bye to family—an uncle, a grandfather, and someone, well, not a brother, but certainly not just a friend, even though she wondered how old Urban was.

  “I figured you’d say that,” said Soddam. He let Legs down, then took her in a large embrace. “The Six love you.”

  She hugged Withers next. “I brought your skenning back,” she said and held out the belt he’d lent her.

  “No, girl, you keep that. You remember old Withers.”

  “But you said—”

  “When I die, I’m going to stick with Urban’s ship and haunt all the other men,” he said. “And when I put into port, I’ll look for the ways. I have myself a few other weapons. I’ll be fine.”