by Barb Hendee
A lovely girl of about five years old stood up. Although her hair was badly in need of a brushing, creamy skin and tiny features marked her as a future beauty. Even her miniature hands were already dainty and fine.
“I’m Rose.”
Teesha’s smile blossomed. “Well, he sent me to find you. Come, dear.”
Little Rose hurried over without question and held up her hands. Teesha grasped them and lifted her out of the hiding hole. As Teesha carried her from the stable, she felt the softness of the girl’s muslin dress and the warmth of the small body beneath the cloth. No one on the roof saw them leave.
The streets were almost black this far from the center of town. Teesha flitted from the deeper shadows of the buildings, working her way out back to move along the shore side of town. She occasionally caught the presence or thoughts of a fear-filled person hiding somewhere nearby. And though she could not see them, as with the guards on the roof of the stable, it was easy enough to push their thoughts and drive their attention away from her path. She dashed quickly across the last open space and around to the backside of The Sea Lion.
Teesha shifted Rose to sit on her hip and wrapped one arm around the child’s waist.
“Hang on to my neck, dear,” she murmured. “We’re going to climb up the building and then crawl through your window.”
“I like your dress. I always wanted a red dress,” Rose answered.
“Well, then you should have one, as red as they come. Now take hold of my neck.”
Scaling the tavern was a simple matter for Teesha. She cradled Rose carefully while entering through a broken upstairs bedroom window.
“This isn’t my room,” Rose said matter-of-factly. “It’s Magiere’s.”
“Really?” Teesha answered. “How nice.”
She had no idea how long it would take Rashed to wake and begin his attack. His only real weakness was an uneven dormant pattern. But now, the purpose of the moment began to play on her. Carrying Rose to the far side of the room, she set the child on the floor in direct line of sight with the open door. She then knelt down.
“Look at me,” she said.
Oval brown eyes obediently moved to Teesha’s face—which shifted instantly to a grimace of fangs and glimmering translucent eyes drawn wide with hunger.
“Scream,” she ordered.
Rose screamed.
Sword in hand, Magiere crouched behind the bar, peering out a small hole she’d gouged through its wall. Rashed would likely want to trap her upstairs again, where she had less room to swing her falchion and he could better use his size and strength. As it was, he’d probably search the entire upper floor before coming down, and from her current position, she could watch him descend. If he got close enough to her hiding place, she might be able to take his head off in a moment of surprise. Chap sat beside her, occasionally pushing his nose against her arm but otherwise obediently silent. She no longer doubted anything strange or uncanny he appeared to do. His calm state told her they still had time left to wait.
Then Chap jumped to his feet, growling softly, his attention focused upward.
“Shhhh, don’t give us away,” she whispered.
She knew he wouldn’t, but felt a need to remind him. All the two of them had to do was wait for Rashed to finish his search and come down the stairs. The wooden boards beneath her knees were attached to her home, to her business, and she would defend them. She leaned closer to the hole and peered toward the stairs.
Noticing soft light reflecting off the wood near her face, she glanced down. Her topaz stone was glowing. Chap whined almost pitifully, and Magiere was about to tell him to be quiet again, when a scream rang out from upstairs—female, high pitched, and terrified. A child’s voice.
Magiere knew the voice. It was Rose’s.
Chap rounded the bar toward the stairs before she could respond, forcing her to follow.
“Wait!” she ordered in a loud whisper.
He stopped, growling low, body trembling.
Magiere had counted on meeting Rashed in an open fight. She had felt his thoughts in the cave below the warehouse. Monster or not, she’d felt his perverted warrior’s sense that would bid him to attack alone. Would Rashed use a child as bait? Such an act seemed out of character. She joined Chap at the foot of the stairs.
Rose screamed again and didn’t stop this time. Magiere grabbed the scruff of Chap’s neck.
“Slowly,” she said. “Keep a sharp watch.”
She hated allowing herself to be lured into a trap, but there was no choice. Rose was in danger.
Staying alert, they crept up the stairs toward the sound of Rose’s cries. Not running to help her became more difficult with each step. Nearer the top, she could tell the sound came from her own room. She peered quickly around the wall’s edge with one eye, then pulled back. The door was wide open.
“Get Rose,” Magiere whispered. “Do you understand? I’ll fight. You just get Rose.”
Chap stuck his head out around the top of the stairs toward the door, then back toward Magiere, and he growled.
Magiere stepped into the hallway to see Rose sitting on the floor of her room, crying loudly. She appeared unhurt, but tears streaked her face, and she was so frightened that Magiere struggled not to simply run in and grab her. Otherwise, the room, what she could see of it, appeared empty.
“Come here,” she whispered, hoping Rose might be able to run out on her own. “Come out of there, now.”
Rose only shook and cried harder.
Magiere stepped forward cautiously, Chap inching along close at her side. As she approached the doorway, she leaned her back near the right wall and, stepping sideways along it, watched the left side of the room come into view around the doorjamb. She held out her hand to Chap, motioning him to wait. When her shoulder brushed the doorjamb, the whole room was in view.
It was empty, wind blowing through the still-broken window where Rashed had crashed outward several nights before. She relaxed slightly, and reached out her hand to Rose.
Rose’s eyes turned upward.
Magiere ducked as a hand slashed down from above the door. Fingernails raked her throat in a wild attempt at a grip as a body landed on her back, driving her down on one knee. Rose’s cries turned to hysterical screams, mixing with Chap’s snarls.
The hand grasping her jaw still fought for a grip, and if it managed one, it would most likely snap her neck. Strength and rage welled up in Magiere, but this time she knew it would come, and so it did not overwhelm her.
She pushed off from her folded legs, curling her head and shoulders down, and turning in mid dive until her back and her attacker led the slide across the floor. When she collided with the nearest bedpost, the attacker was caught between the post and her own back.
The bed lurched and the hand across Magiere’s jaw lost its grip entirely.
Magiere rammed her elbow backward. The point of it connected with her attacker’s torso, and she was able to scramble away, spinning around on hands and knees to hold the falchion at guard in front of her.
As in the forest the night before, just the sight of Teesha caused Magiere to hesitate. Everything about this exquisite creature seemed like a dream, unreal. But the scratches on Magiere’s throat felt real enough, reminding her of the danger.
Teesha was on her feet instantly, and Magiere lunged, driving her around the bed’s end and across the small room. Magiere shifted in the other direction across the side of the bed, ready to cut through lithe woman’s back if she tried for the window.
“Now, Chap!“
Teesha froze as Chap rushed in, gripped the back of Rose’s muslin dress with his teeth, and dragged the screaming child into the hallway out of sight.
Open, honest emotion shone off Teesha’s fine features—hatred.
“You thought to break my neck when I entered?” Magiere asked. “Do you have another idea now?”
“I can move faster than you. I won’t let you hurt him again.”
Magi
ere experienced an unwanted moment of hesitation. The uncontrollable fury she normally dealt with when facing these creatures seemed weak.
She looked at Teesha’s brown curls and red gown and small waist. There was no sword in Teesha’s hand. She simply appeared to be a lovely young woman. Enraged, but not a monster. And even though Magiere knew better, Teesha’s appearance affected her, as did the small woman’s words. This creature was trying to protect its . . . partner, companion . . . mate?
“I never wanted this battle,” Magiere said, not quite sure why she spoke. “He started this.”
“Rashed? No, you began this.”
“It was him, and Ratboy, who broke into my home and killed Rose’s grandmother.”
“After you befriended the blacksmith, sniffing about his sister’s death place, asking questions. Lie to yourself if you want, but not to me. You’ve been hunting us since the day you arrived.”
Confusion threatened Magiere. Is that what they thought, that she’d come here to hunt them?
“No, Teesha. I never—“
“You’re tired,” Teesha said, her voice melting from cold anger to sweet comfort. “I can see it in your face. And no wonder, after what you have been through these past nights. Poor thing.”
Warmth and sympathy swirled inside Magiere’s mind.
“Life isn’t easy for your kind,” the compassionate voice said softly. “No, it’s just as hard as ours. Always in motion, alert, waiting and watching. Sit with me, share with me. I will listen. I will understand.”
Magiere once saw a tapestry of a sea nymph on the wall of an expensive inn. The tapestry was so well executed that she remembered standing for a long time and examining every detail. The portrayal was so alive as the nymph’s arms reached outward in welcome, abundant dark hair falling to her waist, stray damp curls clinging to narrow cheeks.
Teesha sat before her on the rocks, droplets of seawater clinging to the bare skin of her cheeks and throat. Did she wear a red dress? Did the smooth white of her stomach show through a jagged rip in the cloth? The compassionate eyes looked at Magiere. Arms stretched out to invite her.
All she had to do was lower her sword and lay her head on the nymph’s shoulder. Teesha would understand. No one in Magiere’s life had ever held her, comforted her, that she remembered. Not friends . . . there had been no friends . . . not family, not even Aunt Bieja.
Leesil. He had done this once, one long night on the road, or had it been twice? Had it really happened at all?
Magiere stepped forward and was rewarded with a grateful smile.
“Tell me everything,” Teesha whispered. “I will care for you. I will take your sorrows and drain them away.”
Her fingers brushed Magiere’s chin and moved up to stroke her temple.
Chap growled from the open doorway.
Teesha’s attention flickered briefly toward the dog.
The nymph faded from Magiere’s visions. There was only the woman, the creature. Teesha. Magiere backstepped once as her sword arm pulled up and swung level.
Teesha’s focus shifted instantly back to Magiere.
Realization didn’t dawn on Magiere until she found herself looking down at the red-clad body lying limp across her bed. The head still rocked on the floor where it had fallen, neck stump dripping dark fluid onto the floor and into its disheveled hair. The eyes were locked wide, but the pale face was blank of expression.
Instead of triumph, loss and regret hit Magiere. Two single tears slipped out, not at the death of this creature so much as the death of the illusion Teesha had painted in her mind.
Chap sniffed at the head, then barked low and soft.
“Take Rose back to the stable and protect the children,” she ordered him.
He looked up at her with a low whine of obvious disagreement.
“Do it!” she said.
Chap hesitated briefly, then left the room.
Magiere stood there for a long time. Finally, she picked up Teesha’s head by its hair and walked back downstairs.
Chapter Twenty
Leesil waited tensely inside the shack with no idea the battle had already begun. The dwelling he crouched inside was not a home. Barely large enough for Karlin and himself to hide in, it must have once been a kind of toolshed. Now only spiders and a broken rake inhabited the place.
“It’s well past sundown,” Karlin whispered. “Shouldn’t something have happened?”
“I don’t know,” Leesil answered honestly. “If they’ve discovered we’re prepared, they may wait a long time.”
“People will already be shaking from fear. Much longer, and they’ll be exhausted.”
“Exactly. Hence, the waiting if they know something is happening.”
Leesil peered out a crack in the door, hoping to see something, anything, when he heard Rose scream. The sound shot through him like an arrow, and he burst out into the street without thinking.
“Rose?” he called and started for the stable up the street.
Another scream rang out, and in confusion, he turned toward the tavern. Karlin now stood beside him.
More screams echoed through the town around him.
Turning, he saw two dockworkers run from their hiding places in panic. Snarls and growls followed frightened cries, and Leesil stood dumbfounded, not knowing what he should do.
Wolves.
Long-legged, enraged animals were running in the streets and attacking Miiska’s citizens. Some were even jumping through windows. Geoffry, Karlin’s son, was holding off an enormous black beast with a makeshift spear. Leesil dropped his ax, grabbed Karlin’s crossbow out of the man’s hands, and fired, catching the wolf through the throat.
“Get off the ground!” he yelled.
The streets turned to chaos. His simple but well-laid plan shattered into pieces as more canine creatures appeared from around side streets to savagely rout his people from their hiding places. Thoughts of undeads disappeared as weapons and terror shifted toward new targets.
The wolves were not starving, mangy beasts. They appeared to be healthy timber wolves, except they had gone mad and were attacking anything human that moved. He and Magiere had some experience with wolves on the open road in Stravina, but he’d never known one to attack a person, unless famine or disease drove it to desperate action. Wolves avoided areas where people settled. But now, these tall, gray-and-black furred creatures ran down and savaged random citizens. Screams and snarls filled the night air.
“Leesil!” Karlin shouted. “The tavern’s on fire.”
Rashed sent the wolves ahead, following rapidly through the trees toward Miiska. This time it would be the hunter who was caught off guard, distracted by carnage, and he would be the one with well-prepared forces. While he did not consider wolves to be complex creatures, they became quite single-minded when he set them to a task for which they were suited. With one thought image, he showed them that task, ordering them to attack and kill anything that moved. They obeyed.
Reaching the edge of town, he strode in without hesitation, carrying a burning torch in one hand and his sword in the other. There was no time or need to hide in shadows now.
He felt no satisfaction when the screaming began. Random violence was distasteful and lacked honor. Even killing to feed was a foolish act that raised suspicion and depleted the local food supply. But the hunter had retreated to hide among the townspeople, so the town itself must be otherwise occupied for him to pull her into the open and finish this conflict. The hunter had forced him to this slaughter.
The closer he drew to the tavern, the more people ran out of nearby buildings, and this puzzled him. Few mortals made their homes near the docks or as far south in the town as The Sea Lion. He saw armed men jumping off roofs to either save those on the ground or escape from a wolf that had found its way up.
Magiere, the spineless hunter, had set a trap, hiding behind simple townsfolk and laborers. The thought angered him.
No one noticed him as he strode purposefully towar
d the tavern. In fact, only when the dwelling was directly in his sight did one person even try to stop him. A young town guard was aiming a crossbow at a wolf across the street when he saw Rashed and started slightly. Instead of shooting at the wolf, he aimed at Rashed and fired.
At full strength and concentration, the Noble Dead simply caught the quarrel in mid-air and tossed it aside.
The young guard’s eyes widened, and he ran away.
Rashed did not follow. Instead, he walked up to The Sea Lion, kicked a few boards at its base loose, and thrust the torch’s head in among them. The tavern’s wood was old and dry, and burst into flames. He quickly repeated this act on each side of the building, leaving the back until last, after which he threw the torch through the upper window of what he knew was her bedroom. Then he returned to the front to wait for Magiere. She was inside. He could feel her presence after so many close encounters. He watched the door and windows for any glimpse of her.
At first he saw nothing. Then a flicker of movement passed by the small window to the left of the front door. His eyes focused between the door and main window of the common room, one of its shutters torn off and lying on the ground.
Magiere stepped into plain view through the larger window.
He was not surprised by her sudden appearance, but rather by her composure. Hair pulled back and armor cleaned, her expression was calm. She appeared fresh and rested, not like someone who’d been fighting night after night. The fire was spreading and devouring the tavern, but neither that nor the battle in the streets affected her. Why didn’t she run out?
They stood, staring at each other. She gripped her falchion in one hand and kept the other hand hidden behind her.
Without a word, she lifted her concealed hand. For a moment, Rashed could not see what she held through the fire’s glare and the dark inside the tavern. A distinct shape dangled down from brown strands of hair clenched in her fist.
Teesha’s head.
Leesil’s body no longer functioned as he wished, and desperation ran out of him in sweat that chilled on his skin in the cool night air. He’d worked his way through the turmoil, trying to drive off beasts assaulting people in the street, and now found himself near the shore, with the docks to the north of him and the near side of the tavern just to the south. Everything had deteriorated into confusion. Then Karlin shouted at him.