Unbroken Chain: The Darker Road

by Jaleigh Johnson

Tuva shook his head. “We’ve had words already. I won’t see her again.” He focused on Ashok’s face with an effort. “Do you have a message for Him, Ashok, if my soul makes it to his side?”

  “You will make it,” Ashok said. “Tempus gains a great warrior this day. Tell Him that, and may He never forget it.”

  Tuva chuckled weakly. “I like you, Ashok. You have a sharp tongue, and you’re fearless. I’ll walk beside you a little longer,” he said.

  He took three more steps and was dead before he fell. Ashok caught the man gently at the shoulders and lowered his body to the ground.

  “Tempus,” Ashok said. His voice hardened. “Remember my words. Claim your warrior’s soul, and never forget his worth.”

  He held Tuva’s body in silence for several long moments while the caravan passed on out of sight ahead of them. The warrior’s body went cold so fast—another soul gone, yet Ashok still lived.

  Tuva, Olra, Vedoran, Chanoch.

  If he closed his eyes, Ashok could see them all standing before him out of the shadows.

  Waiting.

  When he heard the sound of hoofbeats, Ashok looked up. He wasn’t surprised to see Cree riding toward him. Ilvani rode beside him on Skagi’s horse.

  “You felt it?” Ashok asked Ilvani.

  The witch nodded. She and Cree kneeled beside Tuva’s body. Cree said a prayer for the warrior—no less fervent than Ashok’s, but perhaps more respectful.

  True to Tuva’s words, Vlahna led the caravan on while Ashok and Ilvani stayed behind to tend to Tuva’s body. Ilvani spoke a few words and moved her hands over the shadar-kai’s body. Flames spread from her hands and consumed him. It reminded Ashok too much of Olra’s funeral, and he turned away quickly to follow the caravan.

  Ilvani lingered. She watched the road ahead of them with trepidation.

  “What is it?” Ashok asked. “Do you see something?”

  “An owl,” Ilvani said.

  Ashok looked, but there were no birds in the sky. “What does it mean?”

  “One spirit is gone, but the others are waiting,” Ilvani said. “The monsters are gone, but there are more frightening things this side of the mountains.”

  “We’ll deal with whatever comes,” Ashok said. “You won’t have to face it alone.”

  Ilvani nodded, but she kept casting glances at the sky, and Ashok saw her rubbing her arms where she’d cut herself. The wounds had healed, but it was as if she could still feel them.

  As they walked together, Ashok found himself wishing he could ask her about Tuva’s soul. Would she know if Tempus claimed it? Ashok wanted Tuva to find peace with his god. He wanted to think of all the souls of his friends at rest, even if he could not claim that peace for himself. Knowing his companions were free of their burdens, Ashok felt as if he could face his own shadows.

  The caravan came down out of the High Country, where Rashemen spread out before them. The foothills were rough terrain, and the weather stayed bitterly cold, but the wind died down for a spell, giving them an unbroken vista of the snow-covered country. The sun came out two days after Tuva’s death. For the first time it shone so brightly, it pained Ashok’s eyes.

  He found himself staring up at the bright light until his head throbbed and orange and yellow spots completely obscured his vision. More than once, he caught himself falling behind, and finally he forced himself to concentrate on the path ahead.

  The sun turned the packed snow to glistening diamonds, and this, too, threatened to dazzle his eyes, but Ashok kept moving until the caravan drew to a halt after highsun.

  They’d stopped for a rest not long ago. Ashok knew there must be something wrong. He took the nightmare and rode to the front of the caravan, taking a wide route so as not to disturb the horses.

  In the distance, riders approached. Ashok reached for his chain. When they got closer, he saw they resembled the man he and Mareyn had encountered in the mountains. They were dressed in similar hide or leather armor and carried long knives, bows, and arrows.

  Vlahna rode up next to Tatigan’s wagon and waited while the merchant climbed down to accompany her to meet the group. Skagi rode up beside Ashok.

  “Strange, they don’t look happy to see us,” he said.

  “Be ready in case that’s true,” Ashok murmured.

  Skagi nodded. The riders fanned out around them. They ranged in age from twenty to fifty winters, in Ashok’s estimation. The eldest, a bearded warrior with long gray braids and a tattoo of a raven on his neck, came forward to meet Tatigan.

  “Well met, Ralemvic of the Raven lodge,” said Tatigan, raising a hand to greet the warrior. “Do you remember me?”

  The Rashemi nodded. “You’re known to me and to the people of Thasunta, Tatigan. My people speak of you as a fair trader. On any other day, I would welcome you to these lands.”

  “Oh? Why not this day? Forgive me, but as you can see, my fellows and I walked a hard road. We hoped to beg the hospitality of Thasunta,” Tatigan said. His tone was mild, but Ashok had been on the road with the merchant long enough to detect the tension underlying the words.

  “I see that you’ve had a difficult time,” Ralemvic said. “But you won’t find sanctuary here. Our nights and days have been disturbed of late. The spirits walk about the land, restless and unfriendly to those they encounter. You will be much better off passing through Rashemen and heading west into Thesk to trade your wares. Many who would have bought and sold goods refuse to leave their homes. They work and prepare offerings to appease the spirits.”

  Ashok and Skagi exchanged a glance. The news confirmed what they’d suspected all along. Whatever affliction had spread among the creatures of the Shadowfell was also present in Rashemen.

  “We had hoped to stop and trade here and in Tinnir,” Tatigan said regretfully, “but if that village, too, has shut itself off, there’s no reason for us to linger. But surely we may find willing merchants in Mulsantir?”

  “I can’t speak for Mulsantir,” Ralemvic said. “Our concerns are Thasunta and the road between it and Tinnir. You have the freedom to travel. I warned of the dangers. Bhalla protect you.”

  “My thanks,” Tatigan said, “and take care, yourselves.”

  Ralemvic nodded. He wheeled his horse around, and his companions made to follow. Before he turned away, the elder warrior cast his gaze over the caravan again. When he noticed Ashok and Skagi at the edge of the road, his eyes widened. He quickly masked the reaction and rode away, but Ashok noticed that he dug his heels into his horse’s sides to spur the animal faster.

  “Did you see that?” Ashok said.

  “I saw it,” Skagi said. “Either they’ve never seen a shadar-kai before—”

  “Or they have seen our kind and made enemies of them,” Ashok said.

  “Unless he recognized your pony,” Skagi said. “He’s enough to make anyone fidgety.”

  “Maybe, but I don’t think he could tell what the beast was at this distance,” Ashok said. The nightmare’s flame burned low in the bitter cold. He’d never appeared so much like a common black stallion. Even his fear aura was limited to a few feet out from his body. Ashok was grateful. He hadn’t tried to put the enchanted necklace back on the nightmare. Without a cleric nearby, if the stallion resisted as forcefully as he had last time, Ashok would have been in no condition to help his friends in Rashemen.

  “Won’t help our cause, him looking at us like that,” Skagi said.

  “We have to hope they’ll be more welcoming in Mulsantir,” Ashok agreed.

  “Ashok.”

  Ashok turned and saw Cree ride up. “What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know—maybe nothing, but Ilvani wandered off by herself toward the village. Mareyn rode after her.”

  Ashok and Skagi followed Cree back along the caravan line. It didn’t take them long to catch up to Ilvani and Mareyn.

  The witch stood before a small pinewoods where the tree branches were heavy with snow. Mareyn stayed on her horse, but Ilvani walked among the trees
, running her hands over the bare inner branches where there were fewer needles. As Ashok and the brothers looked on quietly, she climbed into the closest tree, using the low-hanging branches as ladder steps. She sat on a thick branch midway up the tree and shifted to face them. Her gaze was unfocused, but her hands moved over the tree branches as if she knew them intimately. She ran her fingers over the bark and down to touch her own leg.

  “No blood,” she said, “but the rest is the same. The snow rabbit was here. She lived all of it.”

  “What is she talking about?” Mareyn asked Ashok.

  “Her dreams,” Ashok said. “She recognizes this place.”

  “I can feel her everywhere,” the witch said. “She’s closer than she’s ever been.” Her breath came faster, and her eyes were wide and terrified. She gripped the branches to keep from falling out of the tree.

  “We should make a guard around the wood,” Cree said to his brother. “You heard the Rashemi. We could be in for an attack we won’t see coming.”

  “He’s right,” Ashok said, but his attention was still on Ilvani.

  Skagi nodded, and the brothers split up to watch the fringes of the wood. Ashok dismounted, and Mareyn followed suit.

  “You should get back to the caravan,” Ashok told her. “If they haven’t noticed our absence, they’ll already be moving out.”

  “I’ll tell them to wait for you,” Mareyn said.

  “No.” Ashok gripped her arm. “This is where we split up. If Ilvani has seen this place in her dreams, there’s a good chance we’ll find answers here about the maddened creatures.”

  “It isn’t wise to stay here with only the four of you,” Mareyn said, “even with the nightmare standing guard.”

  “This was always our mission,” Ashok told her. “It’s the only way Ilvani will find peace from her dreams. Will you tell Tatigan to look for us when the caravan passes back through this way?”

  “I’ll tell him,” Mareyn said. She looked at him a moment, a mixture of emotions in her eyes. She stepped forward and clasped Ashok by the shoulders affectionately. “The Martucks have decided to stay in Thesk for the winter. Les needs time to heal, and he won’t find peace on the road. Beyond that, I don’t know where they’ll go, but it’s certain I won’t see you on the return trip.”

  “I’m sorry for that—and for other things,” Ashok said. “What happened to the boy was—”

  “Life,” Mareyn said, cutting him off. “We deal with the good luck we find and the bad that’s forced on us. Tymora reminds me of this daily. Les will learn to deal with his scars, just as you’ve done.”

  Ashok nodded, but his gaze kept straying to Ilvani’s stricken face. He felt torn between the things he wanted to say to Mareyn—emotions he might not be able to sort out if he had days or months—and the urgency of Ilvani’s need.

  Mareyn must have seen his internal struggle. “Go,” she told him. “She needs you to change her fortunes. And maybe she will change yours.”

  “Good-bye, Mareyn,” Ashok said.

  She smiled a little self-consciously, hooked an arm around his neck, and tugged him to her. She kissed him quickly and then nudged him away.

  “Good-bye, Ashok,” she said.

  After Mareyn rode away, Ashok went to where Ilvani sat in the tree. He stood below her, his head on a level with her boots.

  She looked down at him. “No more sleep,” she said.

  “I agree,” Ashok said. “We’ll go to the village. If there are witches in Tinnir, we’ll find them.”

  Ilvani leaned her cheek against the tree and closed her eyes. “Each of these trees has a name. They’re telling me, whispering the names, but they don’t realize I can’t repeat them. Names like that weren’t meant to be spoken by human tongues.”

  “Can you shut them out?” Ashok asked. “Maybe you should come down from there.”

  “They don’t mean any harm.” Ilvani slowly climbed down out of the tree, but she kept her hands on the smooth branches. “They gave me another name, one I can use. Yaraella.”

  Ashok felt a chill, colder than the frigid air, go through him. He thought it must be the wind, but the tree boughs were still. It was so quiet in the wood. The animals had sought shelter in anticipation of the deep winter.

  “The woman from your dreams,” Ashok said. “She’s been here?”

  “She’s all over these woods,” Ilvani said. “Tinnir is her home, but the spirits know her here. They miss her touch.”

  “Let’s go, then,” Ashok said. “The sooner we get to Tinnir, the sooner we can find out what happened to her.”

  Skagi and Cree met them outside the wood. They followed a track off the Golden Way. Snow-covered signs indicated Tinnir wasn’t far away, but the evening darkness came swiftly and forced them to camp for the night.

  Ilvani was true to her promise. She didn’t sleep, and she noticed Ashok and the brothers were too restless to get more than a pair of hours each. In the morning, they moved on.

  They passed a wooded vale that Ilvani recognized again from her dreams. She was so close to Yaraella, she felt as if she were coming home herself. When they arrived at the outskirts of Tinnir after midday, she nearly wept at the familiar dwellings.

  If I’m not rid of her soon, I won’t be Ilvani anymore, Ilvani thought. I’ll be the witch—the ghost.

  The uneven ground gave way to small farm fields, their remaining vegetation sealed in a frost skin. Cree stopped and pulled up one of the plants.

  “These fields were never harvested,” he said.

  “Maybe winter came early,” Skagi suggested. He kicked the brittle leaves.

  “No. It’s all dead,” Ilvani said. She took the plant stalk from Cree. “Dead and withered. It was a punishment.”

  “Hmph. Must have insulted one of those telthors pretty bad for them to do all this,” Skagi said.

  “Over here,” Ashok said.

  Ilvani dropped the withered plant and walked over to Ashok. He pointed to a fenced pen behind one of the houses. A dead horse lay on the ground, its body covered with a fine layer of snow. Frozen blood hung from its nostrils.

  “Why didn’t they bury it?” Skagi said disgustedly.

  “No smoke coming from the house,” Cree said. “Whoever lived here must have left very quickly. It looks like they didn’t take anything with them.”

  “Only the clothes they wore,” Ilvani said. How could they not? She felt the sense of unwelcome in the air. An unspoken menace hovered over the village. This was the center of everything.

  “Ashok, Cree,” Skagi said tersely, “look to the road.”

  Ilvani tore her gaze away from the corpse of the horse and saw people coming toward them from the village—six armed men led by three women who wore carved wooden masks that obscured their features. One of the women carried a child in her arms. A chill gripped Ilvani when she saw the little one.

  “Draw no weapons,” said one of the masked women in Common, “or we’ll strike you down.”

  Ashok, Cree, and Skagi surrounded Ilvani as the warriors converged on them. “We don’t come to Tinnir in violence,” Cree said.

  The woman gave a raspy laugh muffled by her mask. “Your souls are filled with nothing but violence, shadow man,” she said. She pointed to the nightmare. “You walk with demons, yet you ask us to believe you come in friendship?”

  Cree had no reply for that. Ilvani could imagine how they all looked to the witches of Rashemen—for this must surely be them. Cree with his single eye and devouring serpent tattoo; Skagi and his deformed smile; and Ashok and his nightmare. Did the witches see the scars around his spirit? To Ilvani they were as vivid as the fiery death that walked at his side. Did the witches see her scars?

  “We’ve come to seek the counsel of the witches of Rashemen,” Ashok said. “Are you one we might speak with?”

  The masked woman stepped forward. Ilvani couldn’t see her expression, but she sensed power in the mask, and in the body of the woman—power and anger.

 
“I am Agny,” she said, “and you will speak only to answer for your crimes against this village and its people.”

  “Crimes?” Skagi said. He kicked the dead plants again. “You’re mad if you think we’re to blame for this.”

  “We’ve never set foot in this village before today,” Ashok said.

  “Yet you’ve been traveling many days to get here,” said another of the witches. Ilvani started. Something about the woman was familiar. “We saw a vision of you in the High Country, your gazes fixed on our lands like predators on the hunt.”

  “I remember,” Ilvani said, stepping forward. She felt Ashok tense beside her, but she ignored him. She recognized where she’d heard the woman’s voice before. Hers was one of the whispers she’d been hearing ever since they approached Rashemen. “Your gazes poked and prodded like the telthors,” she said, “always trying to get in where you’re not welcome.”

  “Who are you to speak so of the spirits?” the witch Agny cried.

  “I’m—” Ilvani was distracted by the child squirming in her keeper’s arms. The little one stared at Ilvani and made impatient noises to be set down. For some reason, it frightened Ilvani. She didn’t want the girl near her.

  “Take them,” Agny said impatiently. “Leave the woman to me to question.”

  Ilvani couldn’t speak. There were too many whispers in her head. Not just spirits—the whisper and chatter of drawn weapons. Ashok and the brothers pressed their bodies close, too close to her. She couldn’t breathe. She was back in her cage.

  “Get away!” she yelled. She shoved her way past Ashok and Cree, ignoring their cries for her to stop. She had to get away, so she ran blindly forward. The tip of a warrior’s sword flashed in front of her, but Ilvani kept running, not caring if she ran onto his blade.

  A force hit her in the chest and drove her to the ground. At first, she thought it was the sword, but the impact had been blunt. Magic, she reasoned, and the suspicion was confirmed a breath later when she felt the latent energy of the spell pass out of her body. Her chest ached, but it wasn’t a fatal blow by any stretch.

  Ilvani rolled onto her back. Her vision took in the sky and the figures standing around her, but all the sounds came as if from a great distance. Ashok and the brothers struggled in the grip of the Rashemi warriors, who stayed their attacks at the muffled shouts of Agny. She closed her eyes to block out the sights and sounds.