by Mur Lafferty
Like hers had been.
The dark—skinned man leaned back and sighed, looking at his two victims. The one who bled from the nose didn’t stir. He lay on his side, back to the river. The crow perched on his shoulder and cawed at the man who stopped forcing the other man under the water. He made a rude gesture at the bird, waving his arm, but he looked too tired to attack her.
Instead, he stood and stretched, gray wings unfurling from his back. He surveyed his work, kicked lackadaisically at the crow, which dodged, and then he leaped into the air, nearly swerving into a tree before he gained altitude.
Now what? The man in the river still had his head deep under, and the crow flew to him, grabbing the waistband of his trousers with her talons and beating her wings, trying to lift him.
She knew it was useless, but it was all she could think to do. Frustrated, she screamed: a ragged sound she hadn’t realized herself capable of making. It felt good. She did it again, letting the woods ring with her anger, her pain. The sound was so piercing, that the other man finally stirred.
He held his head in his hands rolled to his knees, and then spied her and the drowned man. He swore and scooted forward, grabbing the other man’s legs and pulling.
The man came out of the river, face sliding along the moss. His single eye was closed, and milky liquid dribbled from his nose. The crow settled beside him and cocked her head, looking at the still face. She made a soft, distressed sound.
His eye opened, and he sat up abruptly.
“Well, that sucked,” he said.
“Are you all right?” asked the man who had dragged him from the river. “I thought you were—”
The man shook his head. “Nah, I just play dead real good. We weren’t going to win, so I figured I’d let him think he’d drowned me and he’d leave.” He squinted at the sky with his one eye. “Looks like I was right.”
“You played dead?” said his companion, his eyes wide.
The one—eyed man shrugged. “Trickster god. Comes in the job
description. It’s really hard to kill me. I just had to make sure I didn’t drink any of the river.”
“That’s a relief. I wish I was hard to hurt,” the other man said, rubbing the left side of his head.
“Kate should be able to fix you up. Come on, let’s go back to camp. I think this little girl needs to go back,” he said, nodding at the crow, which flew to his outstretched arm. “Although I do appreciate her interfering.”
The crow jumped to his shoulder, glad the wind had left with the monster. The one—eyed man offered his shoulder to the other, and they made their way back to the clearing.
The crow considered the wind for a moment, then on a whim took wing from the man’s shoulder and climbed, this time more confidently. The people had this under control, but no one knew where that monster had gone.
She would follow him.
• • •
“What the hell happened to you?” Kate asked when two men — battered, bleeding, and bruised — staggered back to camp.
“We went after Amadeus,” the one—eyed man said. He grimaced. “We found him.”
“Are you all right?” Kate asked, rising.
The one—eyed man helped the bleeding man to sit. “I’ll be fine. Marcus could use some help though.”
“Don’t know how much I have left in me,” Kate said ruefully. “I used up a lot putting Julie back together. She still can’t talk, though, and she doesn’t remember anything.”
Julie. That was her, she remembered. If a goddess used up almost all of her power healing her, then she should be better off than she was. She stood, trying to get used to the body that remembered being a crow when it had been attacked by that monster, that Amadeus. Julie took a cautious step, then another. She tried to kneel next to the injured man, but ended up
falling next to him.
He looked her, his face puffy. “I’m sorry about what happened to you,” he said.
She smiled. Kate offered her a rag; she took it, and dabbed at the cuts and the blood coming from the man’s ear.
Kate took a step back, letting Julie work. Daniel smirked. “She can’t talk but she remembers basic first aid?”
Kate shrugged. “Who the hell knows how this really works?” She paused. “Wait, where’s her crow?”
“Oh yeah, the one who helped us not totally die at the river side? I liked her.”
Kate made an impatient gesture.
“Right. She flew off before we got here. I don’t know where she went.”
“You’re kidding me. She’s the other half of Julie’s consciousness! We can’t lose her!”
“Oh, excuse me for getting this bleeding guy to the almighty healing goddess,” he said, sarcastically. “I might as well have been drinking at a bar when Kennedy was shot.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Sounded good in my head. You know, stinging and mean. I’ll look for her. You take care of Marcus,” he said, the anger draining from his voice.
“He beat both of us back there,” Marcus said, taking the rag from Julie and holding it to his ear. “What makes you think you can take him alone?”
Daniel stood and stretched, his bruises already looking less serious than before. He grinned. “I’m a trickster. I can’t beat him at hand to hand, but I can trick a leopard out of his spots.”
“That was Coyote,” Kate said, still sounding angry.
“Yeah, and she taught me a thing or two, thanks very much,” Daniel said. He stretched and became a one—eyed hawk. He flew to perch on Kate’s shoulder and rubbed his head on her cheek.
She smiled. “All right, I get it. We’re cool. Go get the crow. Don’t fight Amadeus, just bring the crow back.” She frowned at Julie and Marcus. “I have an idea about what to do with her.”
Daniel flew off, and Marcus’ eyes tracked the hawk until it flew from the light of their fire.
“Will he be okay?” Marcus asked.
“He’s been through more than you know. Beating a new god in a new land? He’ll be fine. He might start a new world in the process, or give birth to our child, or come back missing an ear, or having another god friend trailing at his heels, but yeah, he’ll be okay.”
“Somehow I don’t feel better,” Marcus said. Julie was still staring at his face. He put his hand gently over hers. “I’m all right,” he said softly. “Thank you.”
She sat back, holding her hand in place where he held it. Then he let it go and looked in her eyes. She didn’t like the way she felt when he did that. But she couldn’t look away.
“You really don’t remember anything?” he asked.
She shrugged. She remembered enough to understand words. But not her name. Or these other people’s. She remembered this land, though, and that it was frightened. But she couldn’t tell him that.
“That’s a shame,” he said, looking away.
Julie looked away and saw that Kate had dozed off, leaning against a tree. Julie’s eyes went wide as she pointed.
Marcus frowned. “She needs her rest, it’s okay.”
Julie couldn’t voice that she was worried that one god was asleep and the other one was gone, and she had no memory and Marcus was injured. She had no words at all.
“It’s a good idea, actually,” Marcus said. “I know you just got put together again, but I don’t know how much longer I can stay awake. Can you take a watch?”
Julie shook her head wildly, standing, gesturing to indicate the situation they were in, and her own impotence, and inability to even call for help. But Marcus’ eyes were drooping—or, at least, the one that wasn’t already swollen shut was drooping.
“I’m sorry, I can’t understand you, and I really need some rest,” he said, and leaned back on the grass.
Julie stood there, alone, helpless.
• • •
There was something about this land. The Reach, they had called it. It was new, the crow knew that. This land with its tall trees and deep rivers was only
a little older than she was, in her current incarnation, anyway. She flew, trying to listen or smell in the darkness to track the monster. The land convulsed with a low moan, like she had felt before on the ground. She blinked and realized she could make out the form of the trees. Dawn, or what passed for dawn in this world, was coming.
She marveled that she still felt the ground shake while in the air. It must be quite upset, to be calling to her so loudly. She flew down to investigate.
The woods seemed to go on forever. She worried she wouldn’t find her way back, but just then, she felt a gentle pull back from the way she had come, a small tether to the body she had been created from.
When her claws touched earth, she felt connected to it even more. It was in pain, considerable pain, as if being warped in a way it was never meant to be. That pain honed in on one specific location, and it was close.
The monster was there, the land whispered to her. And he was doing something terrible. The unholy wind ruffled the crow’s feathers. Steeling herself, she crept toward the epicenter of the anguish.
• • •
Julie looked around, turning in a slow circle. In spite of her initial panic, she heard nothing but silence in the woods. If Daniel had flown off to follow the crow, which had flown off to find the monster, then she should be safe. If the threat came here, then Daniel and the crow would be here.
What else was there to fear in this place?
What indeed? She had already lost herself in the river. The bank was about thirty feet away and yet it seemed so close, so dangerous. Its milky water glowed, mocking her.
How could a river mock? She took a step toward it, still unused to this body, the one Kate assured her was the one she should be in. She sat cross—legged at the edge of the river, with a furtive look back to her companions, who slept undisturbed by the embers of their fire. She trailed a finger in the water, fascinated as the disturbance created whorls and eddies downstream. She pulled her finger out and looked at it. It seemed so simple, this liquid, but so dangerous. She wondered if any creatures, pure and blank and innocent, lived under the waters. She ran her hands along the bank at the river’s edge, her fingers digging into the muck under the water.
She scooped out a handful of muddy stones, all of them blue—white, the same milky tint as the water. Then she realized: the woods were getting lighter, she could see colors now. She rinsed the rocks in the water and walked back to the fire.
The land wrenched again. Julie found herself mentally soothing it, making shushing sounds and realizing it was the first sound she had made.
Kate stirred at the sound, and sat up.
“Oh God, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have dozed off. I had the weirdest dream.”
Julie raised her eyebrows.
Kate rubbed her face. “I guess it was a prophecy. Gods don’t have a lot of subconscious dreams.” She smiled at Julie. “Don’t you know what I dreamed? You’re my prophet, aren’t you?”
Julie shrugged. Her mind was as empty as it had been. She knew basic laws of the world, but her own name still sounded odd to her ears, and this woman in front of her was only a god because she said so.
“How’s Marcus?” Kate asked, indicating him with a jerk of her head.
Julie mimed falling asleep and falling over, and Kate smiled. “I’m sure he wouldn’t have left you alone if he could have prevented it. He cares a lot for you.”
Julie frowned. Something was returning to her, something about this young man, and birds, and a lot of black sand. His injuries here concerned her more, now, and she studied him. His face was creased as if he dreamed something upsetting.
Kate got to her feet and stretched. “Of course, you haven’t noticed his feelings because you’re hung up on a dead guy. Then again, we’re all dead.”
Julie didn’t like the way Kate was looking at her. Another memory came to her; intense feelings like a spike, love and anguish and mourning and fear. She tried to grab hold of the memories, but it was like grappling with smoke. Although these feelings were strong, she couldn’t remember what they were about. Or who.
How awkward. Hoping to divert some attention from herself, she
pointed to Kate.
The goddess accurately interpreted her gesture. “I’m doing much better, thanks. Just needed to recharge. I think I can properly take care of Marcus now.”
She knelt beside him. She pulled the sleeves off her pale arms and reached for his shoulders, but he groaned in his sleep, saying something that sounded like, “Oh shit, Kate is going to kill me.”
It didn’t sound like his voice. Kate drew her hand back. “He’s still connected to Daniel. What’s going on over there?”
The ground shifted again, and Julie staggered as she lost her balance.
“Got to get word to Kate. Someone tell her. We need Kate—” Marcus gasped, and he sat up, startling both Kate and Julie.
He whipped his head around, eyes wide, not seeing either of them. Kate grabbed his shoulders. “Take it easy. You’re awake, you’re safe now. Can you tell me what you were dreaming about?”
He shook his head, and then winced, touching the cut on his forehead. “It was a monster, but bigger than Amadeus was before. Daniel — he’s in trouble. He got caught.”
Julie grabbed his hand, her mouth working as she tried to ask the question she needed desperately to know. He stared back at her. “What is it?”
Julie grimaced and let go of his hand, flapping her arms like a bird.
He nodded. “Right. I didn’t see her in the dream. I don’t know where she is.”
Julie didn’t know whether to feel relieved or worried. She looked at Kate.
“Obviously we have to find him,” Kate said. “First, though, you.” She placed her hands on Marcus’ face, an oddly intimate gesture, and Julie found herself looking away.
“Thank you, Lady,” he said with reverence, and when Julie looked again, his bruises and cuts were gone, and he looked much improved.
Kate nodded. “I can find them a lot faster on my own. But I don’t want to leave you two alone.”
Marcus stretched, clearly enjoying a body without pain. “Go. The only threat we’ve seen is what you’re chasing. We promise not to play in the river.”
Julie’s hand clenched around the pebbles in her hand, and she felt vaguely guilty.
“We can follow on foot, don’t worry about us,” Marcus continued.
Kate brushed off her robe. “You will not. You’ll stay here where it’s safe. No offense, but Julie is not in any shape to fight, and I mean either physically or covertly. She’s weak in body and mind, and needs protection.”
Julie frowned and crossed her arms. Marcus nodded at her. “I just said the threat is way over there. I can protect her here from nothing, or go there and protect her, or help you.”
“I’m not having this argument,” Kate said, and shimmered briefly. A small bird, its wings fluttering so fast Julie couldn’t see them, was in her place, and it darted to and fro briefly, and then zipped into the forest.
Marcus swore under his breath. Then he looked at Julie. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken for you. If you’re not willing to seek them out, of course I’ll stay here with you.”
Julie looked at the stones in her hand. Three of them. Ignoring Marcus, she went back to the river’s edge. She stuck her hand in, and pulled more stones from the dirt. Some were large, some were small. More memories assailed her, stronger this time. The tower and the chain, Amadeus and his zealotry. Their strange trip.
“What are you doing, didn’t you just hear what I told Kate? That’s where all this trouble started!” Marcus said, coming up behind her. Julie glared at him, and held her wet hand up to stop him. He paused, his face tense with confusion.
She slipped all of her stones into her left hand and dug with the right until there were too many, and then she put them on the moss beside her. When her memories faded again, she shook her head to clear it, and continued, only more determined now that her the
ory was proven.
“What are these?” Marcus asked, picking up one of the stones. His face went still, and he stared into the distance.
Julie had reached the edge of a larger stone, deeper in. And then she
realized the stones were sinking into the muck, becoming part of the river. She reached deeper with both hands, tugging the rock. The waters of Lethe swirled around her, pulling her. Seducing her. Why not give up, why not just relax and be blissful and blank forever? She had put too much of her body in the waters. It would be easy. Gentle. She started to tumble forward.
Marcus grabbed her collar and yanked back, and the rock slipped from her fingers. They landed in a heap, her on top of him, back to chest. She wailed, realizing that part of herself was lost to her forever. Marcus’ arms closed around her and she wept, relaxing against him. He didn’t say anything to her, just held her, as the memory of what she lost faded and left only a hole.
“Your memories are the stones,” he finally said, once she had calmed down.
She nodded. “If I’d waited much longer, the river would have had them all.”
She sat up in surprise, realizing what she had said. Or that she had spoken at all. She glanced down and saw a jagged bit of rock in her hand, a piece that had probably broken off the larger one. She rolled off Marcus and scooted over to her pebbles.
She picked them up one by one, smiling at him even though tears still stained her cheeks. “I remember. I remember you, and Daniel and Kate, and my childhood, and the fact that I’m a prophet of Kate.” She named the memories as she picked them up.
Marcus coughed, not meeting her eyes. “What about the one that got away in the river? Do you…?”
She sighed, picking up the last of them, cradling the pile in her hands. “My name, I think.”
“Your name is Julie,” Marcus said.
Julie frowned. “I know that, but it doesn’t sound right to me. I lost the name my mother gave me, all four of them. The hopes she had for me before the gods died and Meridian fell. It’s gone.”
“Then what part of you is still with the crow?” he asked.