The six positioned themselves in a half circle. They held their arms out from their sides with legs spread. Rezub and another man swept up piles of hair around them while another put away a pair of shears and cleaned a straight razor.
Others not set on a specific task relating to the six watched in fascination at the transformation. It was a step-by-step process for those involved.
Damaris was first, using her tailoring skills as she adjusted a small white loincloth, the only piece of clothing that each wore. Somehow, she managed to pin it in such a way that it removed nearly all of the creases and seams, making it seem molded to the individual’s skin. Behind Damaris, several older men grabbed handfuls of a thick white paste from two pails. The paste was something Ava had thrown together with water, ash, and some of the root herbs from their small garden. The older men slathered the paste over each of the six, until nothing except their eyes, nostrils, and mouth remained uncovered.
Three women, all former prostitutes from the Soiled Dove, were the last in the assembly line. They removed the excess paste and smoothed out the covering, especially around the edges of the loincloths to hide any seams.
The two men received approval from Myra that they were done. Ava chuckled at their relief at no longer being groped by men and women while on display.
It’s amazing the loincloths stayed in place.
Now finished, they began teasing the four teenagers still undergoing the process of being made into apparitions.
“Better get your mind somewhere else, boy,” said one.
“Might pop Damaris’s stitches,” said the other.
Myra gave them a cold stare. “Enough.”
They hesitated, but only for a moment. No matter how cold the stare was, they were adults and Myra was still a teenager.
“Don’t be upset, girl. It’s only a joke.”
Myra looked as if she were debating on what to do next.
Don’t dwell. Make a decision fast and stick to it. Just don’t make a scene and create bad blood at a time like this.
She began to walk behind Myra, hoping that a glimpse of her presence might ease the two older men from pressing the issue.
It didn’t matter because as Damaris finished her last stitch, she looked back at the two men. “I don’t think Myra’s upset.” She leaned forward, squinting at the crotch of both men. “Probably just thinking that you two had an unfair advantage over the younger boys. There doesn’t look to be much there that might pop a stitch at all.”
Smiles broke out wide on all in attendance, relieving some of the tension. The younger men chuckled. The two men who were the targets of Damaris’s teasing joined in last, but loudest of all.
“Xank-be-damned,” one said, laughing. “I remember when my wife used to talk like that.”
Damaris snorted, while putting away her needle.
The hoots and laughter increased then. If the man wasn’t covered in white, he might have turned red.
“All right. I quit. You win,” said the other man.
Damaris winked at Ava.
Gods, did Tyrus know she could do something like that?
The men asked Myra. “What do you want us to do next?”
Myra looked as though she was dissecting and analyzing the exchange and outcome. If she continued to take after her father, Ava knew the lesson would be filed away for a future use.
Myra collected herself. “Grab your gear and go to your assigned spots.”
“And the tracks?”
She turned to Rezub. “Can you and two men take care of covering after them and the others?”
He nodded.
“Take your time,” Ava interjected. “Just as I showed you.”
“I got it,” he said, half in aggravation.
He and a couple others headed out the door with an old shirt tied on the end of a stick.
With the reduction in numbers, the remaining tension left the room. Ava got closer to Myra as she eyed the three women working on the last two young men Myra had selected. Besides, the unbelievable job of smoothing out the white paste so that it appeared natural, they added dried ash and dirt to make them seem almost like undead creatures out of myth rather than ghosts.
“How’d you know they’d be so good at that?” Ava asked.
“I saw them work wonders with make-up and thought the skills might carryover.”
Ava gave a confused look.
“Had to do something to pass the time when Ma was working,” she said grimly. “Watching them try to get some of the less youthful women ready for a job was often all I had to do.”
Of course. How could I forget about the Soiled Dove?
An uncomfortable silence stretched. Damaris was there a moment later, helping fill it.
“How’s the courtyard?” she asked.
“Finished for now,” said Ava, thankful for the save. “Though I guess I’ve got more work to do on the walls and in the towers and gatehouse. I saw Zadok up there.”
“He should be finishing up soon,” said Myra. “I just wanted him to work on a couple of smaller traps Dekar showed me after a game of crests. He said the Turine army used them during the retreat from Wadlow Hill.”
Ava tensed. Wadlow Hill wasn’t a pleasant memory for anyone who lived through it. There were many hungry nights and tired days following it until they began pushing back against the Geneshans. She remembered several traps that Hamath and Tyrus had come up with. Nasty things that didn’t use any sorcery so they would be more difficult for the enemy to detect.
“Are you crazy to have a bunch of children working on those? Do you have any idea how much can go wrong if they aren’t careful?”
Ava spun, ready to go after Zadok and Abigail as horrible images of small limbs lying next to bloody stumps flashed through her mind.
Myra grabbed her arm. “Aunt Ava. Stop.” She lowered her voice as other eyes from those in attendance were upon them. “I made adjustments based on what Dekar showed us. The traps aren’t the same ones you used against the Geneshans. Just inspired by them.”
Ava relaxed. “All right. But no more. You’re in danger of almost doing too much. Remember, I still need time to go over any last minute camouflage soon if I’m to save my strength to help cover Sivan’s tracks when he returns and later keep everyone hidden in the cellar.”
She hated knowing that she needed to recover from such simple spells, especially since they took longer and more effort to perform than before. However, she also couldn’t wait to cast the next one.
Each spell successfully cast was like rediscovering a part of who she used to be. Since her connection had slowly returned she longed to keep pushing herself, anxious to regain her competence and confidence of before.
She thought of the people at the outpost relying on her and her skills.
Am I ready? Have I regained enough?
* * *
Sivan and the other scouts returned, stopping just outside the gate on foot, huffing after having hidden their mounts. Beads of sweat rolled down their faces.
Sivan hobbled over to Ava and Myra, forcing his words through labored breaths. “They’re coming.”
“How long?” Ava asked.
“Less than half an hour. We would have been back sooner to give more warning, but it took longer than I would have liked to cover our tracks.”
“It’s fine. Everyone is already in the basement.”
He nodded and walked in that direction with the other two men following.
Myra turned to Ava. “Are you ready to cast another spell?”
What choice do I have? Either do it or we die.
“Sure.”
There was no need to let Myra in on her doubts. She honed her focus, then cast a final spell over any recent tracks while they slowly retreated to the cellar.
She sagged once finishing
.
I did it. But can I still do more? She breathed slowly. Find a way to make it work.
Myra touched her shoulder. “Are you all right?”
She forced a smile. “Just need some water. That’s all.”
The truth was that she had slowly grown more fatigued with each spell. She had cast more sorcery in the last day than she had since the eruptions began months ago. Under normal circumstances she’d be elated by such a realization.
But an approaching army puts a pretty big damper on that.
Ava cursed, feeling a bit light-headed.
“What?” Myra asked.
She admitted, “I don’t know if water will be enough.”
Myra bit her lip. “Maybe we can figure something out once we’re below with the others.”
If the situation was not so grim, Ava might have snorted. The teen didn’t show the panic one might expect after hearing the plan could fall apart.
Girl is more mature than her age. She paused. But then circumstances sort of forced her to be.
Ava blew out a slow breath. “Sure. Maybe.”
* * *
The basement was unimpressive to put it politely. It was nothing like what they had taken shelter in below the Hemlock Inn following the second eruption in Denu Creek. This basement lacked headroom to stand, and there certainly wasn’t enough space for people to stretch out. Sitting huddled, or standing hunched were the only two options. Most had opted for the former by the time Ava and Myra joined the others.
No matter how close people sat or stood, room was still an issue. More than a dozen people stood outside the basement entrance, little more than a hole in the ground, shuffling around nervously while trying to direct others already in the space on where to go to create more room.
Sivan said. “We’ve got a problem.”
“There’s no problem,” hissed Rezub near the opening. “People just need to move where I tell them. Not there,” he snapped at someone, then pointed. “I said over there.”
“There’s no room,” a voice shouted upward.
“Make room,” he said with panic.
“Stop it,” said Ava to Rezub. “Yelling at someone for something they can’t control won’t do any good.”
Sivan shook his head. “This is my fault. I should have looked the space over, and taken some quick measurements.”
“When? You were out scouting up until a few minutes ago. You had no time. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine,” said Ava. “I was here. I should have considered this.”
Molak-be-damned, Tyrus. This is why I shouldn’t be running things. You wouldn’t have missed this.
“You were just as busy as Sivan, Aunt Ava. Truthfully, we all should have thought of this,” said Myra, biting her lip.
Sivan sighed. “What are we going to do to fix this?” He paused, thinking. “There’s that small attic on the other side of the courtyard above the old storage shed. Why can’t the rest of us just hide there?”
Myra’s eyes shifted ever so slightly to Ava. It was subtle, but Ava noticed it.
She wonders if I could protect them over there.
Ava opened her mouth. “I-I’m not sure if I could extend myself that far.”
“That far?” asked Rezub. “It’s just across the courtyard.”
“I know. But I’m already tired from all the camouflaging I’ve done. It is much easier to cast and hold a spell in a tight area, rather than extend it. Before the eruptions I could have done it.” She swore. “Ao-be-damned, just not now.”
“I have a solution,” said Sivan. “However, it’s one that many won’t like. At best, all but ten people will be able to fit inside the basement. Those ten will back up our six ghosts.”
“I don’t follow,” said another.
“In the event we don’t fool the Malduks, then it is up to the ten people not hiding in the basement to protect those that are.”
Rezub said, “You’re worse than Tyrus. He took chances, but he could at least count. How do you expect ten people to defeat several hundred?”
“He doesn’t,” said Myra in a low voice.
Everyone went silent after Myra’s answer, better understanding Sivan’s plan.
A suicide mission. Gods-be-damned. I should be able to prevent these sorts of decisions, just like I should have been able to stop half the crap we went through on the road to get here.
“Someone will keep a lookout at the door to the barracks,” Sivan explained. “If it looks like the Malduks aren’t retreating, or that they’re pushing through despite what our ghosts are doing, then the ten will need to draw them away from the cellar. Our best bet would be to head for the mountains where we might be able to shake them once we’re sure we were spotted and they’re pursuing.”
Myra added thoughtfully. “They’ll still look in this room as well as elsewhere in the outpost, but it won’t be nearly as in depth if they think anyone who was here already fled. Being distracted with the ten, should make it easier for Aunt Ava to keep those in the basement hidden.”
Hopefully.
“You’re sending us to our deaths,” hissed Rezub.
“We don’t do this and we’ll be sending everyone to their deaths,” said Sivan.
His voice tried to stay hard, but Ava could see that the situation was trying.
It’s why neither of us wanted to lead.
“You and Ava need to get below,” said Sivan, breaking the silence. “There’s still twelve of us left after that. Let me decide which nine will stay out here with me.”
“But—” started Ava.
He touched Ava briefly on the arm and gently guided her to the entrance, “Tyrus trusted us to watch over everyone. You have your job to keep them hidden. This one is mine.”
What can I say to that?
Sivan wrapped Myra in a hug while urging her toward the hole in the floor.
Just that he’s a good man.
A dagger like stab twisted in Ava’s gut. She had been around enough hard decisions in the military, but that didn’t mean watching another was any easier.
She cursed the gods silently, still blaming them for their situation because of the artifact.
I hate you all.
* * *
Ava knelt with the hatch to the basement door a foot overhead. She faced a wall less than a foot from her face. The position made it easier to ignore and block out the people behind her.
Younger kids pitched fits, not understanding the gravity of the situation. Those were hushed by mothers who fought back tears for the people risking their lives above. Some kids whined about being bored, hungry, or tired. Teenagers said nothing, just staring off into space.
Mothers and the couple of fathers forced to stay below did what they could to keep the noise down.
Not enough. Not nearly enough so that I won’t have to work hard in muting the rest.
Elderly men and women made matters worse, muttering prayers for everyone above and below ground. Ava was sure that in their minds they were setting a proper example of how to handle adversity to others. They annoyed her most.
At least the elderly no longer decree that these times are nothing like as difficult as when they were kids. Hard for them to compare a harsh winter to the world ending.
Ava glanced briefly to her sides.
Damaris was on her left, head half down, eyes close to tears. She’d blink slowly every couple of seconds before gazing at the basement hatch. Ever since she said good-bye to her father, the woman seemed to be in a daze.
But she wasn’t surprised by his decision.
Myra sat near Damaris with Zadok between them. Myra looked little better than Damaris. Her head shook slightly every few moments, as she clenched her jaw.
Ava knew that look well. She had seen Tyrus wear it on more than one occasion.
Ru
nning through the details one last time. Determining what they could have done better.
Zadok held Myra’s hand, and squeezed it tight. The concern he wore seemed focused on his sister’s state of mind rather than his own well-being. He caught Ava looking at them and flashed a small smile of reassurance as if to say they were fine, and not to worry.
Easier said than done.
She turned to her other side where Nason leaned against a wall. His children sat huddled around him, his youngest in his lap. The fear Nason wore was obvious. Still, he smiled for Ava too. The sincerity of it actually eased her worries for the briefest of moments. It wasn’t much, but the reprieve was welcome.
This is too much. Too many people are counting on me.
He mouthed, “You’ll be fine.”
She furrowed her brow. “Are you a mind reader now?” she whispered.
“No, but I believe in you.”
The comment took her aback, and she wanted to ask where it came from. However, a hiss from above cut off her question. Everyone in the basement heard the noise and quieted.
On the edge of silence, the thundering of approaching horses could be heard.
Rezub whispered from above. “The Malduks are here.”
He had said he would relay any information he could to them before it became too risky to say anything at all.
Ava felt bile creep into the back of her throat. She swallowed down the burning sensation, took a deep breath, and began to focus on her upcoming task.
In the past, she probably would have cast the intended spell at that warning and then maintained it until all was clear. However, she didn’t have that kind of power anymore. The longer she held a spell, the more it wore her down. Considering that she not only had to deter anyone from seeing and checking the basement entrance, but also had to mask the sounds and smells of dozens of people below ground along with the ten above, she wanted as much strength as possible.
Resurrected Soldiers: The Tyrus Chronicle - Book Three Page 9