They had no food at the moment, and the town would have plenty of it to offer, but no one disagreed with her. Whatever was happening in Culling’s Eve sounded riotous indeed. And every one of them was bone tired.
Raven led the way this time, carving a trail further from the road and into the woods. They walked until the sounds of the town were minimal and a small clearing appeared, flat enough to sleep without bruising.
“We’ll make camp here.”
“Very well,” said Summer, “I’ll find firewood.”
“I’ll find food,” said Grolsch.
The two headed off in opposite directions, leaving Loki and Raven alone. Raven busied herself with unrolling packs, and Loki gathered rocks to place them in a circle for the fire.
Later, a steady fire burned, cooking a rabbit and two squirrels. Raven knew one of the squirrels was a mother who’d just given birth and her babies were now alone and without sustenance. How she knew this, she had no idea. It was probably that damned soul of hers.
Whatever the reason for the knowledge, though, it kept her from eating any of the smaller creatures. Because she’d lost so much blood, she settled on ingesting a bit of rabbit and called it good. Once more, she’d rather lost her appetite. And the truth was, what she really wanted, what she actually craved, was… blood.
“You okay?”
Raven looked up to find her brother watching her. She realized she’d frozen in place, her gaze distant, the remainder of her food untouched.
“I’m fine. Just tired.”
“I bet you are. We could all use some rest,” Grolsch said, standing to brush any food chunks off his pants before he made his way to the space he’d obviously claimed for the night. He’d left the two thick blankets folded earlier, silently willing them to the two women in the group. The tarp, however, was large enough for two. So, he’d cut it in half and handed one side to Loki.
Then he placed his own on the ground with his packs at one end to serve as a pillow. Loki followed suit, doing the same with his own and taking off his “bounty hunter” armor before laying his sword beside him and his head on his leather bag.
Raven unrolled her thick blanket, laid out on her back, and looked up at the stars.
She’d always loved the stars. To her, they looked like the very beginning moments of a universal blizzard, each shimmering star a perfect, crystallized snow flake, turning and twisting and glittering on its slow, eternal descent. When she was a little girl, her mother told her she’d been taught by her parents that the stars were glass shards. She’d been told that every night, Mother Dawn cleaned up the heavens, sweeping up the remnants of her husband’s drunken revelries to toss them out the window of their enormous, dark home. Her husband was Father Night.
Raven had wondered why Father Night was so unhappy that he became drunk every day. She’d decided it was because his wife was a morning person. That would make any night owl eternally miserable.
Raven smiled. Then she rolled over –
And frowned in her sleep. Her brow furrowed, her eyes squeezing tightly shut. A voice rumbled through the chambers of her sleeping kingdom, echoing off walls of primordial stone, seeping through the soft flesh of her dream self and flooding her tender soul. It caressed her, warmed her, frightened her.
I know what you need… let me give it to you.
She shivered deliciously, in ecstasy, and woke in her dream dominion, in a bed of fire that did not burn. It was fire that merely heated the frigid emptiness of her being. She was consumed by it, enraptured. But she felt, also, in the tiniest part of her subconscious mind, that she was vulnerable - exposed.
What will she still possessed, in this midnight vagary, caused her to swing her legs off the strange bed. They were bare; she was undressed, and bedsheets slid across her flesh as she moved, tantalizing and smooth.
But as her feet touched the floor, the icy chill of the stone burned as no fire could. She recoiled against the frost, against the cold, and laid back down on the bed. Cold was not supposed to harm her! She was the princess of Caina; she was cold, was she not?
No. You are the sun. You are a star. You shed more light into my darkness than any of your glass shards could.
She looked up to find the stars above her, twinkling brightly. They were multi-colored now, glittering in the shades of a rainbow. She heard them twinkling; they sounded like wind chimes, clear and perfect as Mother Dawn threw them out and the night caught them, freezing them in place forever.
Lights in the darkness.
Raven sighed. She was blissfully comfortable here, among these silken, satin sheets on this burning bed. Here was where she belonged. Warm, as she’d never been. Protected. Coveted.
The voice continued to whisper.
Raven…
The sound of it slipped inside her. Her body awakened. She moaned as the comfort slipped away to be replaced with need.
Raven…
She was hungry.
I know what you need. My love, let me give it to you.
He was above her then; she felt his shadow over her, but she couldn’t open her eyes. Her need was too great, the urge too strong. Her teeth clenched as her fangs erupted, and the promising, powerful scent of him coaxed a growl from deep within her throat.
He loomed, closing in. She felt his weight as his hands braced against the bed on either side of her.
Oh gods! He was so close. The bed crackled, the fire building.
Take it, Raven. Take me.
Raven….
She parted her lips, her fangs throbbing, her blood crying out for what it wanted – what it needed. Her eyes burned under her eyelids, shifting from human to Abaddonian form. His chest touched hers, and her heart stopped as heat seared through it, engulfing her. She inhaled sharply, and his throat was there, waiting at her lips, as his final word whispered across her ear.
Drink.
Raven!
Raven jerked violently, sitting straight up on the blanket Grolsch had given to her. She was drenched in sweat, and her body trembled violently. Loki and Summer knelt beside her, but she saw them through the stark outlines of Abaddonian sight.
She’d partially changed.
“Raven, what’s happening?” Loki asked quickly. He looked down at her as if searching for any further evidence that she was shifting. “You’re changing form and you need to change back right now before you give us away!”
Raven touched her tongue to her teeth and felt fang. She groaned, hugging herself tightly against the all-over ache that had infiltrated her body. It had all been a dream. A horrible, miserable, taunting, tempting, terrible dream!
She closed her eyes again and unwittingly released another whimper.
“That must have been one hell of a nightmare,” Summer said softly.
Raven opened her eyes and glanced over at the woman. Hell was right. “You have no idea.”
“Can you get your eyes and teeth back to normal?” Loki asked, concern etching lines in his face that Raven realized had at some point over the last year become wrinkles.
What’s normal? She thought bitterly. And she knew the answer would be different for each of them. But she let the presumption go and just nodded, closing her eyes again to concentrate. A few seconds later, she’d managed to make the change recede – but she was now hungrier than ever.
And not for rabbit.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Raven pushed up off the blanket and got to her feet. She wobbled just a touch at first, but steadied herself quickly. “I need to clean up,” she said softly. She was glad she’d removed her armor before going to bed, but the rest of her clothes, she’d left on, and they were damp now.
“There’s a river about a quarter mile from here,” Grolsch told them, speaking up for the first time since Raven had been awakened. “I’ll walk you.” He turned to Loki and Summer. “You two get a few more hours of sleep. We need as much as we can manage.”
Raven didn’t argue, and thankfully neither did Loki or Summer. S
he continued to hug herself as Grolsch picked up his axe and led the way out of camp. She looked up as she walked, peering into the stars she’d just dreamed about. They weren’t as bright now. In fact, they were beginning to dim by an early twilight. She’d slept most of the night through before her dream.
At least there was that. She had needed that sleep.
“What were you dreamin’ about?” Grolsch asked without looking back at her. It was a pointed question, more than a little personal, but he seemed agitated. As if the contents of her dream were somehow important to him.
“It isn’t important,” she said, hoping to end the conversation then and there.
“You don’t want to share.” He shrugged. “I get it. But you woke up in a fever. Did it ever occur to you magic might have been involved? And if it is, it might compromise our quest?”
“Quest?”
He stopped and turned to her abruptly, nearly causing her to run into him. “What else did you think this was? We’re fightin’ odds, followin’ a map, an’ we’re hopin’ to save the world. That’s a quest.”
Raven blinked. “Fair enough.”
“So, was it magic?” he asked again, returning to the dream.
Raven shook her head and took a step back, rubbing her hand over her face. “Honestly, I don’t know. And I can’t think straight until I get clean. Take me to the river, Grolsch.”
Grolsch considered her a moment in silence. Then he nodded and sighed. “Aye.”
The river, it turned out, was only a few more feet from where they’d stopped. They heard it running before they topped a very small hill, rounded a copse of trees, and were staring down at it.
Grolsch took that opportunity to hand Raven a bar of soap he’d pulled from the packs before they’d left. She thanked him and began walking along the bank in search of a watering hole deep enough to submerge herself in.
Moonlight shimmered off the waves in the water, and made the river rocks glow. It was lovely and inviting, and Raven hoped it would clear her head.
She stopped at the water’s edge and told Grolsch to turn around. But he was already seated on a nearby boulder, his back to her, sharpening his axe with a whet stone.
Raven took off her boots and reached up to take off her shirt. But then she reconsidered it and got into the water with her clothes on. They needed to be cleaned anyway.
The temperature of the water would have made anyone else scream, but she was immune to its chill, so she didn’t make a sound as she sank in to her chin.
A few minutes later, she’d disrobed in the water, washed her clothes and body, and was rinsing the soap from her hair when Grolsch suddenly stood up from his boulder. Raven froze in the water, her hair streaming in a long black waterfall around her. “What is it?”
But he didn’t need to respond. She followed his line of sight and realized what had drawn his attention. The image wavered at first, then became solid in front of them just as the two former visions had.
This one was so surreal, though. Because Drake was no longer a boy. He wasn’t skinny, he wasn’t bedraggled, he wasn’t dirty, and he wasn’t even standing up. Rather, he was sitting at a desk.
He was dressed in the now infamous and easily recognizable armor of the Bounty Hunters of Tanith, black and expertly cut, and tailored to move with a fast, agile body. His jet black, shoulder-length hair was clean, his chin bore a touch of scruff, and his hands were neither cut up nor bruised.
The vision presented him in a room replete with book shelves and a fireplace. Whether it was his own room in his own house, Raven didn’t know. She had never been one to actually think of Drake as the kind of man to own a house. Why hadn’t she? He certainly had enough money for one.
There was so much about him she didn’t know.
In the vision, his silver eyes caught the light of the fire as he focused on something that had been laid out atop the large, polished desk. It was the desk of a rich man, an aristocrat.
Raven pulled on her white tunic as fast as she could and made her way out of the water. It clung to her, and when Grolsch turned around, he smiled an oafish smile. “I’m startin’ to see what all the fuss is now,” he drolled rakishly.
Raven rolled her eyes. “Hush,” she scolded. Grolsch chuckled, and they turned back to the vision. Thus far, Drake hadn’t done anything but use a pen and inkwell to draw upon whatever was rolled out on the table. Eventually, he stopped and ran a frustrated hand through his hair.
“What is that?” Raven whispered, wishing she could get closer.
“It looks like a map of some sort.”
At that moment, there was a knock on Drake’s door. It echoed hollowly in the vision world. Drake raised his head, put his pen away, rolled up the map he’d been working on, and replied. “Come in.”
Another Bounty Hunter of Tanith opened the door and stepped into the room. “The others have been gathered, as you instructed.” It was the same man that had crossed swords with Drake in the previous vision. He was older now, of course, and a scar ran through his left cheek.
“Good.” Drake stood. The vision expanded, showing Raven and Grolsch the rest of the room he was in. It was minimally decorated, but done so with fine, expensive taste. Against one wall rested a large leather pack. Beside it was Drake’s sword.
Raven recognized this particular sword. It was the one he’d been carrying when she’d first met him. Just like his leather, the weapon also bore his signature symbol.
Drake strode to the pack and sword, donned them both in smooth, swift movements, and then joined his hunter at the door. He’d gone partway through when the other man leaned in to stop him. “Are you certain about this?” he asked softly.
Drake considered him a moment, then nodded. “It’s time.”
“Because of a feeling?” the man asked, his expression doubtful.
Drake chuckled, placing a firm hand on the man’s shoulder, indicating a friendship that surprised Raven. Again, she was struck with the impression that there was so much she didn’t know about Drake of Tanith. She ached for the chance to learn.
“Ian, after all this time, you’d doubt my gut instincts?”
Ian blushed, a red tint taking his cheeks. He smiled and shook his head. “No,” he said firmly – and the doubtful expression was gone. “Never. If you say it’s time to go back to your realm, then it’s time. I swear I will lead your hunters as you would have.” He paused, and lowered his head to shake it a little. “Well, at least as close as it’s possible for a human being to get.”
Drake smiled and nodded, pulling back. He took the map he’d rolled up in his hands and slid the pack that was over his shoulder down his arm so he could extract something from it. Once he had what he wanted, he held it up for his companion to see.
“What is it?” Ian asked.
Raven could barely see the item; the vision seemed to have blurred it out more than usual. But it appeared to be some sort of rock dangling from a string. “It’s a long story. A failed attempt at fixing something.” Drake shook his head and took Ian’s hand, shoving both the map and the pendant into it. He closed his friend’s fingers over the objects. “Take them and hide them. Never tell anyone about them. Can I trust you?”
Ian swallowed hard, this sudden task visibly shaking him. But he nodded again, rather emphatically. “Aye,” he said, reminding Raven a bit of Grolsch. She glanced up at the ork, but he was held rapt by the vision playing out before them.
“You can count on me.”
“I know,” Drake said, re-adjusting his pack and moving through the doorway a second time. He glanced over his shoulder. “Let’s get this over with. I’ve never been good at addressing large numbers of people.”
Ian chuckled. “Just challenge someone to a sword fight. It’s worked for you in the past.”
The two left the room together, and the image faded.
Grolsch turned to Raven. “I think that’s the last vision from Drake’s past we’ll be seein’. If I’m not mistaken, he came back
to this realm after that meeting.”
“What do you suppose that object was that he handed to his hunter?”
“I haven’t a clue,” Grolsch shook his head. “But in years of friendship with the bounty hunter, I never learned as much about him as I have in the last few days.”
Raven could imagine. She went back to the water’s edge, grabbed the rest of her clothes, and wished she was already dry.
A cold wind suddenly kicked up around her, circling her like a mini-tornado. She gasped with the rush of it, but fortunately for her, the cold had never been an issue. Moments later, the wind died, and her hair was tousled, but dry, as were her body and her clothes.
“That was some trick,” Grolsch stated flatly. “You should have saved the magic for after this mess was through, though.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” she replied honestly. “But I’ll tell you this,” she continued as she hurriedly got dressed. “We’d best find that Phylactery soon. I’m starting to lose control of powers I didn’t even know I had.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
“It sounds as if they’re still celebrating,” said Summer.
Grolsch shook his head. “Culling’s Eve always sounds like that these days.” He sighed gruffly, looking sidelong at the woman. Absently, he reached over his shoulder to check the handle of his axe as if to make sure it was still there. “It’s really no place for a woman like you.”
Like any woman rightly would, as far as Raven was concerned, Summer took offense at that. “A woman like me?” she inquired, her tone thin.
Grolsch sighed again, a clear signal that he knew he’d misspoken. “You’re fair and… tiny,” he said bluntly. “The men in this town will eat you alive.” He pursed his lips and looked toward the road. “And some of the women likely would, too.”
“Haledon will protect me,” Summer said plainly.
Now it was Loki’s turn to look sidelong at her. “You still believe that?” he asked softly. Despite the fact that Haledon appeared to have all but abandoned Loki when he needed his god most and that Magus had taken up the reigns like a real hero, it wasn’t an angry tone Loki used when he asked the question, nor even resentful. It sounded more like he was genuinely impressed. At her faith or her stupidity, Raven wasn’t sure.
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