It was after midday when they left the tavern and joined the mob in the streets.
“That’s it for me,” Gurnst said. “Most boondags, the party starts at daybreak and goes until the ale runs out, but tonight is Holgunnatt, and I mean to be home before sundown.”
“Holgunnatt?” The street seemed to shift beneath Raine’s feet at the strange word.
The rowan and Raven’s mother had met on Holgunnatt. What had he said? Every Holgunnatt I waited, for decades, to no avail. Then, a hundred years to the night after we first met, she reappeared. Would they meet again tonight?
“Are you well, milady?” Carr asked, noticing Raine’s expression.
“Yes, fine. I… What is Holgunnatt?”
“It means ‘strong night’ in Trolk,” Gurnst said. “Magic is strong on Holgunnatt, and dark things are about.”
“Superstition,” Carr said. “It’s a night like any other.”
“You’re city born and bred, Roark,” Gurnst said. “I’m from the north, where we keep the old ways.”
“I’m going home with Gurnst,” Chaz announced. “He said I could.”
“What about the banquet?” Raine asked.
“I’m sick of banquets,” Chaz said. “Gurnst is making patty nash.”
“Lamb hash, milady,” Gurnst explained. “It’s my mother’s recipe.”
“What about Birgit?” Raine asked.
“She’ll be glad of the company,” Gurnst said, “and it will give Aksel someone new to pester. I’ll bring Chaz to the games tomorrow.”
“Very well,” Raine said, after a moment’s hesitation. “If you’re sure he won’t be in the way.”
“Not a bit of it,” Gurnst said. “Come along, lad. Joyous Trolach.”
He and Chaz waved farewell and melted into the weaving crowd.
“Looks like we’re on our own,” Carr said. “Where to, ladies?”
“Trofellan Square.” Tyra flapped a flyer at him. “According to this, someone has a dancing rock bear.”
“Poppycock,” Carr said. “Rock bears don’t dance.”
“That’s my point,” Tyra said with exaggerated patience. “If someone has captured a rock bear, it’s our duty to intervene, especially during holy Trolach.”
“And do what, pray?” asked Carr.
“Puff out your chest and stomp about,” Tyra said. “Show ʼem some starch. You’re the roark. You should be good at that.”
Carr gave her a curt bow. “I thank you, milady, for the flattering portrait.”
“There, that’s what I’m talking about,” Tyra said. “Curl your lip, just so, and use that withering tone. Very royal. Let’s hurry. The next show starts soon.”
She hurried off, leaving Carr fuming.
“Did you hear?” Carr said, scowling. “She thinks me the veriest fribble.”
“No, no,” Raine assured him. “Come on. We’re losing her.”
They followed Tyra, wending their way through the press of humans and Kronlings. A pack of trolls gathered around a pretty girl offering samples of ale, and young boys threaded through the crowd selling glasses of mulled apple wine and blackcurrant brandy. The air was heavy with the scents of fried fish, hot pastries, chowder, and grilled sausages. They reached Trofellan Square, at last, a huge quadrangle with a towering stone likeness of Finn and Trowyn. A rock sling dangled from one of Finn’s hands. His other hand was behind his back. A small bird perched on his palm.
Over the noise of the crowd, there was the rattle of chains and a terrific snarling.
“I can’t see,” Tyra said, craning her neck. “It’s too crowded.”
Raine reached inside her cloak and touched her wizard stone. “Move,” she muttered, flicking her fingers at the people around them. People toppled like dominoes.
“Oh, look,” Tyra said. “We’re in luck. There’s a way through.”
“Trodyn strange, I call it,” Carr muttered, stepping over a floundering man. “Is there a giant skulking about? Something pushed them over like they were stakker pins.”
Raine flushed guiltily and followed Carr and Tyra through the crowd. Tethered before the sculpture in the square was a creature larger than a horse. The thing was covered in a thick, chitinous exoskeleton and had a multitude of legs and eyes. In addition, a pair of chelipeds sprouted from the monster’s thick underbelly. A flat, vaguely ursine head swayed on the end of the rock bear’s stalky neck, and it swung a wiry, segmented tail that ended in a knob of bone the size of a cannon ball. The creature was manacled to a metal post in the ground and draped with heavy chains.
“By thunder, it is a rock bear,” Carr said, “leastways, a baby one.”
“That’s a baby?” Raine said, gazing at the creature in alarm.
“You’ll see a full-grown one at the games tomorrow,” Carr said. “There’s a vast deal of difference.”
A one-armed man with beady eyes jabbed at the cub with a spear, making the animal bawl in pain. The man laughed and sauntered over to an ale vendor. “And that’s the way you keep the nasty buggers in line,” he said, raising his glass to the crowd.
“He’s torturing it,” Tyra said, her voice thick with outrage. “I’m putting a stop to it.”
“Milady…Tyra, come back.” Carr leapt after her and grabbed her by the arm. “Blast and botheration, that’s a remnant, not a docile hound.”
Tyra jerked free of his grasp. “She won’t hurt me.” She eased up to the nervous cub. “Will you, darling?”
The cub growled and bared her pointy teeth.
“Stay back,” Carr said. “She’s ugly and mean to boot.”
“She’s not ugly,” Tyra crooned, inching closer. “Pay no attention to him, sweetheart. Lord Carr is a big stupid.”
“Stupid, am I?” Carr said. “Serve you right if that thing eats you.”
“Nonsense. She likes me.” Tyra laughed as the cub licked her face. “See?”
“Likes the way you taste, more like. For pity’s sake, come away,” he begged.
Tyra shook her head. “Not until I free her.”
Kneeling, she began to unshackle the cub’s feet. The one-armed man spied her and dropped his beer.
“You, girl,” he blustered, hurrying over. “Take your hands off my animal.”
Carr swore. Drawing his sword, he stepped in front of Tyra. “Halt, sirrah. The lady is with me.”
“Mind your own business, puff twig,” the man said. “I don’t take orders from pretty lordlings.”
“He’s the roark,” Raine said, “and this is his business. Ever heard of Finn’s Oath?”
“I’ve heard of it.” The trapper looked her up and down. “And who might you be, my pretty?”
Raine drew herself up. “The Rowan’s ward. It’s illegal to trap Kronlings in Finlara.”
“Who said I trapped her?” The man looked uneasy. “Mayhap the sow died, and I found the cub wandering. Mayhap I kept the ugly thing from starving.”
“Liar,” Tyra said, unfastening the chains around the cub’s thick neck. “There are the trap marks on this animal’s legs, plain to see.”
“Here, now, I said stop that,” the trapper said, making a grab for Tyra.
The cub bellowed and lashed her tail. Startled, the trapper leapt back with an oath.
“Come the ugly with me, will you?” Barreling past Carr, he charged the cub with his spear. “I’ll teach you.”
A furry brown form rushed from the crowd and slammed into the enraged trapper, knocking him off his feet.
“Mine,” the troll said in a guttural rasp. “Trapper…mine.”
“No, Ilgtha,” Raine cried. “Wait, don’t—”
Ilgtha picked up the struggling man and snapped his spine like a twig. Tossing him to the ground, she picked up the spear. “Mine,” she said again, slowly driving the spear into his chest. �
��Mine.”
The trapper died with a horrible gurgle.
The cub bawled at the scent of blood and shook off her restraints.
“Look out,” Carr shouted. “She’s loose.”
The cub stamped its many feet and bleated in alarm. With an answering roar, the cub’s mama charged into the plaza, ten tons of thundering maternal rage. The crowd shrieked and scattered. Raine, swept up by the tide of terrified people, was carried out of the square and into an adjoining street. A man beside her lost his footing and fell. Raine tripped over him and went down. She screamed and threw her arms over her head as the rushing mass pushed past, pummeling her with knees, elbows, and feet. A boot slammed into Raine’s head and she slumped to the cobblestone, dazed.
“Leave ʼer be, squiggies,” a voice boomed. “Away wiv you.”
Tiny bent over her, brushing aside the wild-eyed humans like so much chaff.
“You a’right?” he said, picking her up and setting her on his shoulder.
“Tiny, oh, thank God.” Raine gulped in relief and buried her face in the giant’s long blond hair. “I-I thought I was going to die.”
“Aye, and so you could have,” Tiny said. “What caused them runties to rumble like ʼat?”
Raine sat up and wiped her eyes. “They were running from a rock bear and her cub.”
“Kron,” Tiny said. “What moony done brung a rock bear into the Citadel on Boondag?”
“A trapper. He’s dead,” Raine said. “Ilgtha killed him.”
“Who?”
“A troll that Raven freed in Gambollia.” She drew a shaky breath. “It doesn’t matter. Take me to Trofellan Square. Carr and Tyra are still back there.”
“The young roark and Mauric’s sister?”
“Yes, we got separated. Oh, hurry, Tiny. We must see about them.”
“Right you are, Rainey.”
Tiny turned and plodded down the street. The merrymakers had dispersed, fleeing into lanes and alleyways in their haste to evacuate the plaza, and they made good time. The giant was taller than the houses around them. A little boy stared at Tiny in astonishment from his second-floor window as they clomped past, his mouth opened in a soft ‘o’ of surprise.
“It be a good thing old Tiny stopped by for a wee nip, don’t you know,” the giant said, “else you’d uv been squished.”
“I know.” Raine shuddered. “Is Raven with you?”
“Nah, his Royalness had to hightail it back to the castle. The rowan sent a stone fairy wiv a message fer him. Reckon he wanted to have a gab about sumpin’.”
“Oh,” Raine said. “How did the hunting trip go?”
“Yer dragon be getting the hang o’ it jes fine. He’s flying good too, now his wings done growed.” Tiny halted in the middle of the street. “Lookee, here be the young roark, now.”
Carr trotted up to the street toward them. “Ho, Sir Bumblefoot. Well met.”
“Bumblefoot?” Tiny protested. “No such thing, I be light on m’ feet, don’t you know, else I’d uh squashed them folks what tried to trample Rainey.”
“That was a near thing.” Carr gazed up at Raine. “Are you hurt, milady?”
“Bruised and shaken, but otherwise fine, thanks to Tiny. How did you escape?”
“Shimmied up Trowyn’s statue and stayed there until the mob had passed.”
“What about Tyra?” Raine asked, regarding him anxiously.
“That one?” Carr kicked an empty flagon that was lying in the street, sending it flying. “She climbed on top of the cub.”
Raine gasped. “No, she didn’t.”
“Yes, she did, by Tro. There I was, clinging to a statue like a prize idiot, and she mounted the damn cub. I shouted for her to get down and run, but she ignored me. Mama Bear lumbers up, and I was sure she was done for.”
“Oh, my God,” Raine said. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” Carr said in disgust. “The monster took one sniff at her, and that was it.”
“Mayhap, Tyra had the cub’s scent on her,” Tiny suggested, “and that be why the mama took a shine to ʼer.”
“I don’t know,” Carr said. “What I do know is Lady Tyra has no care for her safety, and so I shall inform Lord Mauric at the banquet.”
“Oh, no, Carr, you mustn’t,” Raine said. “He’ll send her home.”
“And so he should. She could have been killed.”
“Please, Carr,” Raine said. “It will cause no end of trouble.”
Carr frowned. “Blast and botheration. Very well, I shall keep mum. I only hope I don’t regret it.”
“You won’t,” Raine said with a sigh of relief. “I’ll speak to her. Where is she now?”
“The king’s guard heard the fracas and marched in to restore order. They were going to kill the rock bears, but Tyra kicked up a fuss.”
“That wouldn’t care about that,” Raine said. “You stopped them, didn’t you?”
“I may have had a few words with the captain,” Carr admitted. “I’ve played muhle with him before, and he’s not a bad fellow. Explained the situation and showed him the trapper…or what was left of him.”
“Ilgtha,” Raine cried. “The troll, I mean. What happened to her?”
Carr shrugged. “Dunno. She was playing least in sight. Lady Tyra offered to lead the rock bears out of the city, and the guard went with her. The captain promised to escort Tyra to the castle after the thing was done, and I came to look for you. We both feared—” He wiped his brow. “That is, Tyra and I were worried about you. I think it’s time we returned to the fast. You’ll want to change before the banquet, and the games are tomorrow.”
“I am tired,” Raine admitted, “but I’d like to stop by and check on Flame along the way.”
“I can give you and the young roark a ride to the stable, if’n you likes,” Tiny said.
“Ride a giant?” Carr’s eyes brightened. “I should like that above all things.”
Tiny knelt in the street, and Carr scrambled onto his shoulder. “I’ll have to walk, don’t you know. Can’t use m’ special gait in the city. Too cramped and full o’ shorties.”
“Shorties?” Carr said.
“Non-giants,” Raine said. “Which way are we going, Tiny?”
“Up Merchant Lane, I be a-thinking,” Tiny said. “That be where the rich toffs live. Fewer shorties—er—humans thataway, what with everyone at the ale fest.”
“How do you know where the rich people live, Tiny Bartog?” Raine asked, amused. She adored the giant, but he was notoriously sticky fingered. “Have you been pilfering again?”
“No such thing, Rainey.” Tiny’s eyes widened. “Word gets around, that be all. Tiny wouldn’t dream o’ stealing from the rowan’s folk. South o’ the border, now? That be different.”
The giant picked his way through the houses to Merchant Lane, a staid, quiet avenue of homes, and up the hill to the old mews.
“Wait here,” Raine said when the giant clomped into the stable yard. “I won’t be long.”
“I can come with you, if you like,” Carr said.
“No, I’d like a moment alone with Flame, if you don’t mind,” Raine said. “I haven’t seen him in days.”
“She be like a mother to the darling critter.” Tiny wiped his eyes. “Touches old Tiny’s heart, it do.”
Carr gave him a sharp look. “Are you crying?”
“Nay, not a bit o’ it,” Tiny said. “Grit in m’ eye, be all.”
Raine climbed down from the giant and ran into the huge stable. Flame was dozing on a special pile of hay Gertie had enchanted to be flame resistant, his long tail curled around him. The dragon had grown huge. His horns, which had once been little more than bony tufts, curved from his skull like wicked swords.
“It was built for Thava, a giant with one head, four ears and eyes, and two bod
ies that lived during Rogoth’s reign,” Clegg had explained when he’d moved Flame to the bigger stall. “Cross-eyed, he was, and forever blundering into things. Rogoth took pity on the poor blighter and gave him a home in the stables. Course, that was before my time, but we’ve kept the stall as it was.” His expression was wistful. “Now, there was a rowan. Rogoth Bloodmantle asked no quarter and gave none. Waged war on the Torgs for more than four hundred years.”
“Yes, and what did that accomplish?” Raine said.
“Accomplish?” Clegg had given her a look of astonishment. “He killed some bloody Torgs, that’s what it accomplished.”
Raine slipped quietly into Flame’s stall and sat down beside him.
Flame opened his golden eyes. Greetings, Morven. Flame has missed you.
“I missed you, too. Did you enjoy your trip into the mountains with Raven and Tiny?”
Yes. Raven showed Flame a thing called a deer. Morven is familiar with this munchable?
“Deer are beautiful animals, with soft eyes and tails that swish,” Raine said, “not munchables.”
They are delicious. Flame likes deer. Flame likes sheep, too. Flame also likes moos.
“Flame, did you eat someone’s cow?”
Yes, and it was good, but the human was angry. Raven gave the human some metal to go away. When the human left, Raven said no more moo. That made Flame sad.
“Poor Flame. There are a lot of rules to remember, aren’t there?”
Flame sighed. So many.
“At least you got to fly. What’s it like?”
It is a thing most fine. Flame’s voice was a wistful rumble. The earth looks like Morven’s nest on the ship after Morven slept in it. Flame forgets the word.
“Rumpled, you mean, like an unmade bed?”
Yes, that is the word. The earth looks like an unmade bed…only bigger, an enormous bed of many colors, greens and blues, and browns and black. The mountaintops glitter with frost, and the sun is warm on Flame’s wings, and the air…the air is cold and crisp. The clouds are like fat, fluffy sheep, and there is silence, but for the wind, and Flame can see, oh, everything.
“It sounds wonderful.”
It is. The dragon yawned, showing yards of teeth. Most wonder full.
A Muddle of Magic Page 28